


A Bering & Wells AU Sampler

by GunBunnyCentral



Category: Doctor Who, Elementary (TV), Law & Order: SVU, Legend of the Seeker, Nikita (TV 2010), Once Upon a Time (TV), The Crow (1994), The X-Files, Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunBunnyCentral/pseuds/GunBunnyCentral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of AUs spotlighting Bering & Wells - it originally started as one for each day of the very first AU Week, but has apparently taken on a life of its own. Some chapters will be one-offs, others I hope to revisit in more detail later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Girl With The Moss-Green Eyes (Doctor Who)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young girl with the moss-green eyes fell madly in love the moment she first saw the woman emerge from the blue police box. It would be several years before she understood that fact and what it meant, but the effect was no less profound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part in a collection of seven AUs spotlighting Bering & Wells - one for each day of AU week. Some will be one-offs, others I hope to revisit in more detail later.
> 
> Obviously, this was intended for Day One of AU Week, but got posted a tad late. I owe this idea to the various images floating around of HG as The Doctor - the fit was just too perfect to resist...

The young girl with the moss-green eyes fell madly in love the moment she first saw the woman emerge from the blue police box. It would be several years before she understood that fact and what it meant, but the effect was no less profound.

She'd been all of twelve years old the day they met - it had, in fact, been her birthday, and she'd snuck away from her own birthday party to find some peace and solitude in her favorite nearby park.

The party had made her miserable, but escaping to the park she loved so much had chased all of that away - settled comfortably into a swing with one of her favorite books in her hands, the girl was far happier than she had been at any other point that day.

There was no telling how long she'd been there before a curious sort of whining, grinding noise started trying to pull her from the fantasy world in her head. Not wanting to leave that world, the girl automatically dismissed the sound as nearby machinery of some kind.

Once the wind came into it too, though, it was impossible to ignore - she could block out the noise, but she couldn't read with all the pages blowing back and forth. Besides, the girl had a sudden feeling that the source of all the noise and wind was going to prove far more interesting than even her beloved book.

The whining and grinding and whirring reached a crescendo a mere moment or two after the girl had tucked her book away into her book bag - this left the girl's hands free to cover her ears against the painfully loud noise, which she very much appreciated as she also scrunched her eyes shut against the rising wind.

As suddenly as the noise had started, it stopped completely, along with the wind that had been accompanying it. When it continued to remain quiet and calm for several heartbeats, the girl finally dared to open her eyes - not that she could believe what those eyes showed her.

Standing on top of what had been a large empty sandbox just moments before was a battered blue police box like the ones she'd seen pictures of somewhere. Too curious to be cautious, the girl raced over to the thing, so enthralled that she wasn't even frightened when its doors flew open and someone began to walk through them.

The woman who stepped out of that police box looked like something out of one of the girl's stories - black hair, dark eyes, fair skin, and a broad smile on her face. Her clothes would probably seem a little odd to some - a light gray shirt and fitted charcoal vest over loose black pants, with a long black coat on top of it all - but the girl thought she looked just perfect, and so beautiful.

"Well, hullo there," the woman said as she spotted the girl, causing the poor thing to freeze mid-step in a sudden fit of timidity.

The girl, all wide green eyes and tousled brown curls, tried valiantly to form the expected response. What she finally managed to force out was nowhere close to it. "You landed on top of the sandbox!"

"Oh dear," the woman exclaimed as she looked around. Her odd accent - English, most likely - was music to the girl's ears. "I never will learn to park properly, will I?"

The woman looked around again before turning her attention back to the girl. "Darling, I don't suppose you could tell me where exactly I've landed?"

"Colorado Springs," the girl answered with a giggle she couldn't quite hold back. It was, after all, a strange question to ask.

The woman just beamed. "Aces! I've never been to America - not in this body, anyway!"

Then she looked around the park again slowly, seeming a bit confused to find that she and the young girl were the only ones present. "Are you here all alone, darling? It must be close to dark by now."

The girl, apparently offended by the question, drew herself up to her full height. "I'm twelve years old now, and I'm very mature for my age - I think I can sit in a park by myself for a little while."

"Of course," the woman agreed easily. "I was just curious. Did your family not want to enjoy the park as well?"

"They couldn't come with me," the girl explained. "They had to stay at the party. It was boring, though, so I left."

The woman smiled at that. "Parties can be insufferably dull sometimes - I sneak away from them all the time. What was the party for?"

"My birthday." The girl shrugged as if it meant nothing at all to her, but couldn't quite hide the note of sadness in her voice. "None of the kids there even like me - they all think I'm weird for being so smart. They really just want the cake and ice cream, and to hang out with my sister."

The woman seemed aghast. "Not like you? I've only known you for a few moments, darling, and I think you're perfectly marvelous!"

The girl couldn't help a giggle. "Even though I'm boring and leave parties to read books in the park?"

The woman shook her head and made a 'tsk'ing noise. "I guess no one ever told you, then. Only the best, most wonderful people read books in parks - and the really great ones make absolutely certain to do so on their birthdays."

"I'm sorry I interrupted your reading, dear heart," the woman continued, as they both chose a swing and sat down. "What book did you bring?"

The girl's face just lit up at the question. " _The Three Musketeers_ \- it's my favorite right now because of all the sword fighting."

After a moment, the girl looked around the park, then leaned in as if confiding a great secret. "I want to learn how to fence!"

The woman just laughed then - like she was pleased, not like she'd heard something silly - and it was the most beautiful sound the girl had ever heard. The laughter the girl normally got after such declarations was usually of a different sort altogether.

Then the woman suddenly hopped to her feet. "Stay right here, darling. I'll be back in just a moment."

The girl expected the woman to simply wander off to go do whatever it was she did, but the woman returned a few minutes later with a huge, perfect red apple and two very long sticks. Sitting back down in the swing, she placed the sticks on the ground beside her.

"Now, I don't have any birthday cake," the woman explained, "but I happen to have something even better - a birthday apple. Here, darling, you hold it and make a wish."

The girl took the apple and stared at it, but no specific wish came to mind. Finally, she had to admit as much. "I don't know what to wish for..."

The woman didn't seem concerned by that. "I never know what to wish for - neither does anyone in my family. There's a little trick we have, though - if we can cut the apple in half with one try, its wishing power stays until you choose your wish."

Pulling a weird-looking sort of flashlight from her pocket, the woman handed it to the girl. "Here, darling, you try it. Just point the blue end at the apple and press this button right here."

The girl did as instructed, smiling as a blue light poured from the end of the thing to bathe the apple. The smile faded to a gasp of pure astonishment as the apple split cleanly into equal halves right in her palm - luckily, she managed not to drop either half and was able to offer her new friend one.

"Now remember," the woman warned, mock-serious, as she accepted both the apple half and her flashlight, "this is a family secret. I'm not supposed to share it with anyone, so you can't share it either."

The girl nodded, green eyes wide and solemn, but any trace of seriousness quickly vanished as she and the woman devoured their respective halves of the apple. The woman had been absolutely right - it was better than any birthday cake the girl had ever had.

Once they were done eating, the woman stood up again, grabbing the two long sticks from the ground by her feet as she did so. Then she suddenly got an alarmed look. "Oh, dear! I do hope you haven't made your wish yet, darling - I wouldn't want you wasting a wish on something I'm about to give you anyway."

The girl, a little confused, just shook her head. "I haven't wished for anything yet. And why are you giving me a pair of sticks?"

The woman moved bonelessly into the classic fencing position, brandishing one of the sticks like a rapier, as the girl's eyes widened in shocked understanding. "Because, darling, these aren't just any old sticks - they're cleverly disguised practice swords, and I can teach you how to use one."

The next hour or so was everything the girl had ever dreamed her first fencing lesson would be - according to the woman, she was a natural at it. She still couldn't do anything fancy after just one lesson, of course, but she felt light and graceful - instead of gangly and awkward - for possibly the first time in her life.

The girl's mother turned up shortly after the lesson was over, her voice carrying through the park before she was even visible - fortunately, the mother knew her daughter well, and was not upset with her. The woman managed to just vanish in the time it took for the girl to respond to her mother's call, but the girl somehow knew she'd be back one day.

The girl finally figured out what she truly wanted for her birthday as she and her mother walked out of the park, hand in hand. She was even willing to use her wish to get it if she had to. "Mom? Can I start taking fencing lessons?"

It took time, and hard work, but things changed dramatically from that moment on. With fencing to strengthen her body and school to strengthen her mind, the girl became quick and clever and confident. She also became happy, accepting herself and allowing others to accept her as well - she even finally managed to start getting along with her father.

The girl and the woman didn't meet again until the day the girl turned seventeen, though the woman was always in her thoughts. This was a little before the internet and cellphones were quite so ubiquitous, so the birthday message was delivered the old-fashioned way - a birthday card, sent via the postal service and slipped in amongst the others the girl had received.

The handwriting was unfamiliar, and there was no name, but the girl knew who'd sent it as soon as she read the hastily-scrawled message on the card - "Happy birthday, darling!" - despite the lack of a signature. It also had a slip of paper inside, bearing only a time and the name of an all-too-familiar nearby park, scrawled in the same hand.

The signature on the note - consisting only of the letters HGW - meant nothing to the girl, but she had no doubt at all about who'd sent the card and the message to her, or what the message itself meant. Just like there was no question that she'd be there at the park at the requested hour.

She was - and so was her old friend, though the police box seemed to be properly hidden away this time. It had been five years since that first day in that very same park, but the girl was the only one of the two who seemed to have changed at all - she could have sworn that even the woman's jewelry was exactly the same.

The woman sat waiting on one of the swings, but she hopped up and raced over to the girl as soon as she saw her. "Look at you, darling! Such a beautiful young woman now!"

The two shared a quick hug, and the girl was surprised to realize that she was now the taller of the pair - she also began to get the first inkling of her true feelings for her strange friend, though it would still take a little while for it to reach her conscious mind.

In the meantime, it was easy enough to let herself be distracted by the impromptu birthday picnic she'd been summoned for. Everything had been laid out before she even arrived, right down to the bright red apple she ate every year on her birthday in memory of that long-ago first meeting - though this time there was also birthday cake to go with it.

The two of them talked and talked, over apples and cake and some sort of weird fizzy nectar that tasted like nothing the girl had ever encountered but was amazing all the same - the story of how the woman had first come to try that particular drink was among the many stories told, and it was hilarious. Just like the last time, the woman seemed to hang on every word the girl said when she spoke, actually listening in the way most adults never bothered to.

Once they reached a lull in their conversation, the girl was presented with her birthday gift - a simple, elegant rapier of exactly the sort she could use in her fencing studies. It naturally followed, of course, that the girl just had to test her new blade - the woman had thoughtfully brought her own rapier in preparation for that very thing, and they spent a riotous few minutes dueling it out.

Winded but happy, they sprawled out on the blanket, staring up at the skies as they began idly discussing astronomy. The woman kept an appropriate distance between them - their bodies angled away from each other, heads almost touching as they gazed upward - but the girl still found herself humming with the same odd tension she'd first noticed during the earlier hug.

This time, though, her conscious mind understood it for exactly what it was - she'd had her share of crushes and passing attractions, after all, even if she'd never bothered acting on most of them. The idea of feeling that way toward another woman was a little strange, but it didn't feel wrong or uncomfortable.

So much about the last five years finally fell into place as the girl found herself watching her friend instead of the stars. Something subtle shifted as the woman placed a hand on her arm to direct her attention to something up in the heavens, and the girl decided to make use of the sense of boldness the touch had somehow imparted - feeling simultaneously nervous and elated, she stole a kiss.

Their lips brushed together, sweet and gentle, but that was all the woman would allow. "You're lovely, darling, and I'm flattered, but I'm not for you - not yet, at least. Be patient - I promise to find you when the time is right."

It took eleven years for the woman to return - eleven years during which the girl finished growing up, made some amazing friends, fell in love several times over once she learned how, and discovered firsthand that life goes on even through grief and loss.

She was, of course, celebrating her birthday again when the reunion occurred, per the established pattern thus far - she was twenty-eight years old now, a grown woman by any measure. She'd long since figured out at least some of her strange friend's identity - hard not to, with all the whispered rumors flying around about the odd, possibly extraterrestrial woman in the blue police box calling herself The Doctor - and done her best to measure up to the same heroic standard.

She'd even joined the Secret Service, hoping it would put her right where The Doctor always seemed to be - some sort of interference, probably deliberate, always managed to put the girl somewhere else instead whenever The Doctor turned up, but at least she was still close enough to hear all the firsthand accounts.

This time, though, she finally got to realize her dream - she didn't understand half of what was happening as she helped track down some weird object that threatened to level Washington D.C., but she got to work side-by-side with The Doctor, and it was glorious. They even stopped off for a quick dinner once they were done, as if it had been just another day at the office - never forgetting, of course, the traditional birthday apple.

Afterward, the world as safe as it was going to be for the moment, The Doctor had invited her back to see the police box, and perhaps even take a quick trip somewhere in it. The girl had been waiting for that invitation for just over half her life, but the anticipation thrumming through her body and along her nerves owed surprisingly little to her lingering childhood curiosity.

The girl had a captive audience while driving them both to their destination, and wasted no time taking advantage of it. "I'm not just going to call you 'Doctor' like everyone else. What should I call you instead?"

Something played across The Doctor's eyes and smile at the question that made the girl's heart beat a little faster. For a moment, it even looked like The Doctor was going to say something flirtatious or off-color, but her answer proved normal enough. "Helena will do, darling."

Helena didn't even hesitate before turning the tables on her questioner. "And just what shall I call *you*, darling? Seeing as that is now the question of the evening..."

The girl blinked in confusion but forced herself to keep her eyes on the road. "You already know my name. Don't you?"

Helena's deep, rich laugh filled the inside of the car, and the girl had to fight back a shiver. "Of course I know your name, darling, but names do sometimes change. There's this aquatic species I encountered once who-"

The girl, not at all sure she had the security clearance for whatever classified adventure Helena was about to tell her, interrupted before the story went any further. "Fine! I'm Myka - Myka Bering."

"That wasn't so difficult, now, was it?" Helena observed amiably. "I do believe your name quite suits you, darling, now that you've grown into it - Myka..."

It was a good thing Myka had already parked the car, because hearing Helena say her name like that would have made it impossible to pay attention to the road. The second they were both out of the vehicle, Helena grabbed her hand and dragged her along as she raced for the familiar blue box - the enthusiasm was infectious and Myka couldn't help but smile.

"Here it is, darling," Helena said as they came a stop just short of the doors. "Home sweet home." She then pulled out a very ordinary and exceedingly un-alien house key, which she used to unlock the doors before disappearing through them.

Myka followed her into the police box and found herself in a huge multi-level room full of unknown gadgets, gizmos, and whirligigs. She stepped back outside without a word, taking another look at the exterior. Eyebrows raised in disbelief, she walked back in again. "It's bigger on the inside..."

"It's a TARDIS, darling," Helena replied, as if that explained everything about it. "Now, what was that lovely saying? 'First star to the right and straight on 'til morning'?"

"I have to be back at work in a couple of days," Myka reminded Helena, moving to stand beside the other woman as she continued randomly toggling switches and adjusting dials. "Can we get there and back by then?"

Helena just beamed and threw one final switch. "Of course, darling - we have all the time in the world."

The TARDIS - or whatever it was - starting making several different noises in rapid succession, causing Myka to wince and cover her ears. The thing lurched suddenly as the cacophony faded, as if adding a flourish to the performance.

The unexpected motion threw Myka directly up against Helena, who seemed completely unfazed by the bumpy takeoff. Helena pulled her close to anchor her, grinning broadly the whole time - she let go once things smoothed out, but only so she could hook her fingers on a couple of Myka's belt loops instead.

Myka could have pulled away if she'd wanted to - Helena's grip wasn't very tight - but obviously felt no need. Instead, she smiled and leaned in even closer, so that their bodies were almost, but not quite, pressed together. "I'm not a little girl anymore, you know..."

Helena just smirked a little, tugging on Myka's belt loops to move her forward that last tiny fraction of a step. "Oh, believe me, darling, I know."

This kiss was nothing like the safe, sweet one from Myka's adolescence. There was nothing hesitant or tentative about it as their lips met this time - just years of carefully nurtured attraction finally being given proper expression, with lots of tongue and some wonderfully inappropriate touching.

It was as close to a perfect moment as they were ever likely to find - right down to the fact that they both still tasted of apples - so of course a dozen alarms went off all at once the second they parted for air. Myka covered her ears, though it only helped a little - whatever a TARDIS was, exactly, it was damn noisy - and tried not to panic.

Helena, for her part, merely thumped a balled fist against the control panel under her legs as if the situation was nothing new. It helped cut the noise by silencing a few of the alarms, but the ones still blaring were, of course, the loudest of the bunch.

Myka spent the next few moments watching Helena perform an odd ballet consisting of seemingly random adjustments to various knobs and levers in conjunction with equally random spurts of percussive maintenance. Helena grumbled as she went, but Myka couldn't hear any of it over the din, and she'd never had her Secret Service partner Pete teach her to read lips.

Finally, relative silence fell just in time to be broken by Helena's loud curse. "Oh, bloody hell! Hang on to something, darling!"

Fortunately, the landing was not as bad as the two women had feared - they even laughed a little about that fact as they tried to work out where they'd ended up.

As for what happened when they left the TARDIS to answer that question, and what strange malfunction had caused them to land so abruptly in the first place - well, that one was a different story altogether...


	2. Elementary, My Dear Ms. Bering (Elementary)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sober companion Myka Bering meets her newest client, sometime police consultant Helena Wells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part in a collection of seven AUs spotlighting Bering & Wells - one for each day of AU week. Some will be one-offs, others I hope to revisit in more detail later.
> 
> This was intended for Day Two of AU Week, but also got posted a tad late. The dialogue was lifted directly from the pilot episode of _Elementary_ , then reworked as needed.

Myka Bering's day started out normally enough - up at 7am like always for her morning jog, using the quiet time to clear her head and get her thoughts in order for the new client she was meeting with that afternoon.

The jog went about as well as could be expected, despite the somewhat damp weather, and Myka was still feeling the runner's high as she walked back through the doors of her apartment building. First meetings with new clients always made her both anxious and excited, but she found that the mixture worked for her.

She wasn't even through the lobby of her building yet when her phone rang. Checking the Caller ID and recognizing the name as related to her new client, she answered right away. "Bering. What? Yeah, I'm coming to get her in..."

Myka broke off as the speaker continued, not quite believing what she'd heard. "I'm sorry, did you say she *escaped*? Right. No, no, I have an address I can go check - I'm sure everything's fine."

Fighting back a sigh, Myka put away her phone and hurried up to her apartment. She'd had clients do some very odd things, but this was a little above and beyond - there was no way to know yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing, and the sudden flare of anxiety killed whatever was left of her endorphin rush.

An hour later, Myka was showered, changed, and standing in front of the fence enclosing the brownstone that matched her new client's address. There was a dark-haired woman visible in one of the bottom floor windows - Myka's eyes locked onto the tattoos covering the woman's back before she realized they were only visible because the woman was still in the process of putting on her shirt.

Forcing her eyes away, Myka grabbed her phone and dialed an international number. It rang for a moment, then kicked over to voicemail. "You've reached Charles Wells. Please leave a message with your contact information after the tone and I will return your call as soon as I am able."

Myka did just that, trying to phrase her message as positively as possible. "Hi, Mr. Wells. This is Myka Bering. I'm sure Hemdale has already contacted you, but I wanted to let you know that your sister left rehab a little early this morning. I'm at the brownstone now to check in on her - I'll call you back if there's a problem."

The dark-haired woman from the window came through the front door just as Myka hung up her phone. A quick glance at the woman's face confirmed that it wasn't Myka's client, but her outfit - tight black shirt, black hotpants, and black fishnets - made Myka nervous that her client might already be getting herself into trouble.

Myka made her way through the gate and up the walk, hoping to get the woman's help as they crossed paths. "Excuse me, I'm looking for-"

The woman just ignored her and kept walking without so much as a word, so Myka decided to risk going into the brownstone uninvited. It was definitely an older building, with a somewhat rundown interior, but it was not without its charms - it would probably look amazing if someone took the time to renovate it and get its occupants to tidy up a little.

There didn't seem to be anyone on the first floor, but Myka called out anyway to announce her presence. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

Noise began filtering down from the second floor as Myka neared the staircase - it sounded like several tv sets blaring all at once, and Myka figured she might as well check it out. Following the din up the stairs and down the hall led her to a room full of the expected television sets - and, thankfully, her client.

That client, somewhat improbably dressed in form-hugging jeans and an equally tight Doctor Who tank top, was standing in the center of the room beside a low table full of remotes, a ponytail the color of India ink bobbing against her neck and shoulders as she randomly looked from screen to screen. She seemed alert and focused, but also relaxed, which boded well.

Myka cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Miss-"

"Shh!" The client didn't seem to realize how rude that had sounded, not that Myka would have let it bother her even if they'd been deliberately trying to provoke her. The other woman was clearly in the middle of some sort of mental exercise or other, so Myka waited quietly until she reached for the remotes and paused everything.

Myka took a breath and jumped right in - this was going to be awkward no matter how she played it. "Miss Wells? My name is Myka Bering. I've been hired by your brother Charles to be your sober companion. He told me he was going to speak with you about bringing me in."

That garnered no appreciable response, so Myka pressed on into her usual introductory speech. "I'm here to make the transition from your rehab experience to the routine of your everyday life as smooth as possible - in your case, that means I'll be living with you for the next six weeks. It also means that I'll be available to you night or day during that time."

Something in that seemed to finally capture the other woman's attention - something flickered across the other woman's face too quickly for Myka to identify as they finally made eye contact. The other woman's eyes were so dark they were almost black, and Myka found that strangely unnerving.

Those black eyes suddenly fixated on Myka with an almost overwhelming intensity as the other woman finally spoke in a crisp London accent. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"What?" Myka fought the urge to backpedal as the room suddenly got about ten times smaller.

Myka had been advised already by Charles Wells that his sister was openly bisexual - hence her lack of surprise at the woman all dressed in black earlier - but had somehow failed to consider the possibility that she herself might get hit on.

It had happened before - albeit with male clients - and the best thing to do was make it clear from moment one that such behavior was unacceptable and would not be tolerated. Before Myka could do that, though, the other woman moved into her personal space, those impossibly dark eyes seeming to bore right into her.

Something in the other woman's honeyed, accented voice made it impossible to pull away or interrupt as she pressed on. "I know what you're thinking: the world is a cynical place, and I must be a cynical woman, thinking a woman like you would fall for a line like that. Thing is - it isn't a line, so please hear me when I say this: I have never loved anyone as I do you right now, in this moment."

Myka had to fight to keep her breathing calm and even as all the air seemed to slowly disappear from the room - she knew she should be doing something to stop this, to take back control of the situation, but she was as completely and effectively stunned as if she'd been hit on the head.

The spell didn't break until the unexpected and far too loud click of a remote brought one of the television screens back to life. The sudden noise startled Myka out of her paralysis, and her purse slipped from her shoulder to spill at her feet - looking up as she shoved everything back into her bag, she stared almost uncomprehendingly at the scene playing out on the screen in front of her.

As near as Myka could figure, it was a scene from some soap opera or other - a man and woman standing together as the man declared his love using almost exactly the same words that her strange new client had been speaking just a moment ago.

The two women stood together in silence as the scene played out, as if both checking the dialogue for accuracy. "Do you believe in love at first sight? I know what you're thinking: the world is a cynical place, and I must be a cynical man, thinking a woman like you would fall for a line like that. Thing is - it isn't a line, so please hear me when I say this: I have never loved anyone as I do you right now, in this moment."

Suddenly, Myka's client turned off the television and tossed the remote aside, bouncing slightly on the balls of her bare feet. "Spot on!"

Turning to Myka, she held out a hand. "Helena Wells."

Myka shook the offered hand, though Helena Wells was on the move as soon as she let go. "Please don't get too comfortable, darling. We shan't be here long."

Helena headed out the door and beelined for the stairs, leaving Myka no choice but to follow. "Miss Wells, did your brother tell you about me or not?"

Helena, apparently occupied with searching one of the first floor rooms for something, didn't even look Myka's direction, though she did grimace a little at the question. "Helena, darling, please. And yes, Charles emailed me, told me to expect some sort of an addict-sitter."

Helena's voice and word choice made her disdain for the idea quite clear, but that was nothing Myka hadn't encountered before. "So he explained his conditions with respect to your sobriety?"

Having found the boots she'd been hunting for, Helena settled into a chair to put them on. "If by 'conditions' you mean my dear brother's threats to evict me from this - the shoddiest and least renovated of the *five* properties he owns in New York City - then yes, he has made his conditions quite clear."

Helena, done tugging on her boots, began lacing them up. She looked up to meet Myka's eyes, attempting to convey both her understanding of and her dislike for the current ground rules. "If I use, I wind up on the street. If I refuse your graciously offered assistance, I wind up on the street."

Both boots properly laced now, Helena merely peered at Myka for a long moment. "It's my understanding that most sober companions are recovering addicts themselves. I'd wager you've never had a problem with drugs or alcohol in your life."

Myka nodded. "That's true. It doesn't mean I can't help you, though."

Helena smirked at Myka, who felt her heart skip a beat or two. "Oh, darling, I have no doubt that there are many ways in which you could assist me. I do believe you'd even enjoy most of them."

Myka took an involuntary step back as Helena rose to her feet, but was able to disguise it as merely stepping out of Helena's way as the other woman passed by her and into the hallway. Following after her, Myka settled herself against the door frame as Helena dug through a pile of clothes in what was clearly her bedroom.

Deceptively casual, Myka asked the question she'd been pondering since the phone call earlier. "So, why exactly did you break out of Hemdale when you were going to be released in just a few hours?"

Helena was busy searching under the bed, and her response was only partly intelligible. "...bored."

"You were bored?" Somehow, Myka could actually believe that, coming from this woman.

"No," Helena corrected as she got back to her feet, "I'm bored right now. It happens often, darling - don't take it personally. As for our mutual friends at Hemdale, I have no idea why they're so upset - hadn't they rather be thanking me for exposing the flaws in their terrible security system?"

Even Myka had to smile at that, a smile Helena returned as she finally located the button-down shirt she was after and confirmed that it was wearable. "Excellent."

It was a good moment, so Myka took advantage of it to ask another sensitive question. "The woman who was leaving just as I got here - did she get you high?"

Helena, seemingly unperturbed, just continued buttoning her shirt as her gaze flicked over to the library-style ladder on the nearby wall. "About six feet, actually."

There were handcuffs attached to either side of the ladder, and a silk scarf hanging from one of the rungs. Oblivious to the fact that she might be over-sharing, Helena walked over and grabbed the scarf, hanging it around her neck. "It's quite the conundrum, really - I do so love sex, but I despise people in general."

Helena, smiling, looked at Myka and shrugged. "Ah, well, one does what one must to tend to the body's needs - right, Doctor?"

"I... I'm not a doctor." The words still hurt, even after all this time, and Myka blinked away the sudden sting in her eyes.

Helena, fortunately, didn't seem to pick up on Myka's discomfort. "Ah, but you were - a surgeon, I'd guess, judging by those lovely hands of yours. Is your car parked nearby?"

Myka blinked again, this time in confusion, as she tried to follow the shift from innuendo to legitimate question. "Yeah, it's just out- Wait, how did you know I had a car?"

Helena just grinned. "Elementary, my dear Ms. Bering - I saw a parking ticket fall out of your purse when you dropped everything earlier. You can't have one without the other, now, can you?"

"We're late, darling. We need to get going." Helena added after looking at the bedside clock. Then she pushed past Myka into the hallway.

"Late for what?" Myka asked, trailing behind Helena again.

Helena said nothing, merely continued moving through the first floor of the brownstone gathering up the various scattered personal items she'd need in order to leave the house. Finally, she snatched up her cellphone just as it beeped at her. "Never mind about the car, darling - Manhattan Bridge is down to a single lane. We'll take the Tube instead."

"The subway," Myka corrected automatically. "It's called the subway."

Helena wasn't listening, of course. She was too busy looking around the brownstone with a faintly horrified expression. "Look at this place, darling. I can't wait for you to tidy it up."

Myka wanted to argue that she hadn't been hired to play housekeeper, but she didn't figure it would do any good - she was too much of a neat freak to let the mess and clutter sit for very long, and she had a feeling they both knew it.

Sighing, she followed Helena out the front door. This was going to be a very long six weeks...


	3. Broken (Legend Of The Seeker)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange dream sent to the Mother Confessor triggers a painful and unexpected revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the third in a collection of seven AUs spotlighting Bering & Wells - one for each day of AU Week. Some will be one-offs, others I hope to revisit in more detail later.
> 
> This is one of the AUs I have big plans for. That said, this is just a bit of a test run, and may not appear in the finished product - it's the first few minutes of the Legend Of The Seeker episode 'Broken' as it might have played out in my particular fusion, and presumes knowledge of the earlier Seeker episode 'Sacrifice.' (I apologize for the lack of Steve and Leena - it just didn't work for this particular bit.)
> 
> A NOTE ON PAIRINGS: this fusion is pretty much disregarding the Richard/Kahlan pairing from both the books and the show, so there will be no Pete/Myka - nothing against it, just not part of what I'm doing here. :)

The girl stood with closed eyes under the glaring sun, seemingly as content in its warmth as she was oblivious to the way it had parched the earth all around her. She was muttering a prayer under her breath, and her eyes flew open as the final words passed her lips.

The reason for her obliviousness became immediately apparent - the girl was completely blind, pupils and irises both lost to thick silvery cataracts. That didn't stop her from smiling at the warm breeze on her face, or from holding her arm out just so to catch the companion she'd summoned.

The bird sat quietly on the girl's arm as she talked in a low urgent voice, its black head tipped curiously to one side as it gave its full attention to its mistress' words. Once that mistress fell silent, the bird gave a loud caw that sounded for all the world like it understood exactly what the girl had told it.

"Go, my friend," the girl whispered. "You must find her, and warn her."

The bird flew for days, stopping only for food and rest as its native desert turned to hill and forest - whatever magic its young mistress had cast over it gave it the knowledge it needed to find its quarry. Finally, it began to drift lower and lower in the sky, until it landed gracefully in the branches of a tree edging a forest clearing.

It had landed right next to the woman it had been sent to seek. She was sleeping soundly - as were all her companions save one - and never even noticed the bird, much less its almost-human scrutiny. Once satisfied it had chosen correctly, the bird opened its beak and let out a single soft caw - what emerged, however, was its mistress' voice, whispering a name. "Myka..."

Myka Bering, Mother Confessor of the Midlands - apparently the only one who could hear the bird - shifted in her sleep as the whisper reached her ears, but did not wake. The dream she was currently lost in - a happy dream, for once - shifted as well, altering itself even as she rolled over to her side.

She suddenly found herself standing in a large field of dry, cracked earth, under a blue sky filled with fluffy clouds. Looking down, she saw that she was in the middle of a patch of perfect white roses, of the sort that should not be growing in such thirsty soil - there was nothing alarming about that, however, and she simply smiled as she stared down at the flowers.

A sudden crack of thunder drew Myka's attention upward just in time to see storm clouds race in and open up, sending large, crystalline drops of rain onto the flowers below. She laughed aloud in delight as the cool water hit her upturned face, then looked back down as a sudden sense of foreboding came over her.

The sight that greeted her horrified eyes twisted the otherwise pleasant dream into a nightmare. The raindrops turned to blood as they hit the pristine, snowy rose petals - the assault caused each delicate flower to wither and die, until Myka stood amidst a field of their corpses, staring at the one single rose that remained, somehow still completely untouched.

Something moved ahead of Myka, just beyond that single flower, and she looked up to see a blind little girl standing there with a large black bird on her arm. The little girl, speaking before Myka even had a chance to, addressed her by name. "Myka Bering. Soon you will be the last of your kind..."

Myka woke with a gasp of horror and confusion - something, sadly, that was neither new nor unfamiliar. In a matter of moments, everyone save Claudia - who was difficult to wake under the best of conditions - had gathered to check on her.

None of them held the Confessor's night-born terrors against her. A year had passed since the day Pete had rescued her from the D'Haran Quad hunting her, but it had been a very near thing - he'd saved her from being abused, but only just barely, and she'd still taken a pretty brutal beating before he'd arrived.

Helena crouched down near Myka, making the gesture look unbelievably graceful despite her constrictive Mord-Sith leathers. "Another nightmare, Mother Confessor?"

Myka never knew what to do with the solicitude Helena always displayed in these moments - they certainly never got along the rest of the time. "Yes, but it wasn't like the others. This one was... different, somehow."

"So tell us about it," Pete said, handing Myka a water skin as he sat down beside her. "Maybe it'll help."

Myka shuddered involuntarily as she tried to recall the dream. "I was in a desert, I think. There was a bird, and a blind little girl."

Artie, with the finely-honed instincts of a Wizard of the First Order, spotted the cause of all the trouble immediately. Of course, being Artie, he began mumbling to himself as he worked it all out in his head, and only the last part of what he said was even halfway intelligible. "...a Starless Blackbird of Caska!"

Only Claudia, his ever-put-upon apprentice, had the courage to say what they were all thinking. "It's the middle of the night, old man. Either talk like a normal person or let me go back to sleep."

Artie hardly noticed the attitude - mostly because trading barbs was just what they did. "That wasn't any ordinary dream, Myka. That was a message, from this bird."

Artie whistled a series of short, sharp notes, and the bird actually flew down from the tree to land on his outstretched arm. "This bird belongs to a Dream Caster."

When the rest of the group continued to stare at him blankly, Artie just sighed. "There's a clan of mystical nomads who live near Caska, a desert far away from here. Every generation, a Blackbird befriends one of the clan's young girls. That child is then recognized as the High Priestess and has the power to send dreams, messages, on the wings of birds."

Myka gasped, green eyes wide. "The girl in my dream - she called me by name, like she knew me. She said something to me, something about how I was going to be the last of my kind."

After that, Artie insisted that Myka recount the dream to him, exactly as it had happened. It didn't really mean much to anyone else in the group, though it clearly worried Artie - by the time Myka was done speaking, he was scowling unhappily, bushy eyebrows drawn down towards the bridge of his nose.

"I don't want to jump to conclusions," he said finally, "but it could be a warning that the line of Confessors is in danger."

Myka seemed inclined to agree with Artie's assessment. "I need to go to Valeria, to make sure my sister's safe."

Helena, surprisingly, was the first to object. "Valeria? That's hundreds of leagues from here."

Pete's gut told him that there was something behind Helena's objection that he needed to look into, but Myka was already throwing supplies into her personal pack and his gut would just have to wait a moment. "You can't go alone, Mykes - it's too dangerous. Let me go with you."

The Westland variant on her name seemed to get Myka's attention, but Helena was still apparently against any trip to Valeria. Marching over to Claudia, she snatched up the girl's right hand, turning it palm-upward to display the indigo rune tattooed there. "There is nothing more important than taking her, and this magic rune, to Pamorah to find the Stone Of Tears - you said so yourself."

Even though Helena was sending his Seeker instincts into overdrive, Pete really couldn't argue with her logic. "Okay, fine. Artie, how about you go on ahead with Helena and Claudia? Mykes and I will catch up when we're done."

Artie, Claudia, and Myka burst into a spate of overlapping conversation, arguing about whether to risk the Seeker's safety on a side mission. It was Helena's almost desperate shout that silenced them all. "It's a waste of time!"

Even Myka could see now that something was up. "Why do you say that?"

Helena stood silent for a moment, then ran her fingers through her hair. "The Confessors living on Valeria are dead."

Silence fell for several long heartbeats before Helena continued, addressing herself to Pete. "The previous Lord Rahl got word of the male Confessor living there, and sent us to retrieve the child. We were... unsuccessful - the boy's father killed him to prevent us from taking him."

Myka, stunned by news of her nephew's death, sounded as close to tears as Pete had ever heard her. "And the mother?"

Helena, to her credit, looked Myka squarely in the eye. "She... fell in battle, defending her son."

"My sister- Tracy is dead?" Myka's voice hovered somewhere between shocked and angry, and something about it made the hair on the back of Pete's neck stand on end.

"I'm sorry, Mother Confessor," Helena said, a flicker of regret crossing her face. "If it's any consolation, I killed her swiftly - there was no pain."

Myka made an odd sort of gasping noise, and Pete's gut started screaming even louder. He turned around to find her literally shaking with rage, face a mask of mindless fury - it was nothing he'd ever seen in the Confessor before, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Mykes?"

Claudia scrambled up off her blankets, backing away several feet. "What's happening to her?"

Artie had never known Myka to berserk before, but he'd also never seen her this angry. "She's losing control. Everyone stay back!"

"Myka!" Pete tried calling out her name, in hopes of snapping her out of whatever it was, but the Confessor only shook harder. Grabbing Myka's arms, he turned to warn her target. "Helena, you have to get out of here!"

Helena's voice held a note of anguish that Pete was sure she hadn't meant to let show. "I only did what I was ordered to!"

The sound of Helena's voice only seemed to madden Myka further, and the Confessor tried to shove past Pete, one hand already reaching for the Mord-Sith's throat. Luckily, Pete got both his arms around Myka's waist and caught her - furious at being restrained, Myka threw her head back and screamed in rage.

She continued fighting to get free and reach Helena, her anger making her even stronger than usual. It was all Pete could do to hang on to her, and he finally ended up just wrestling her to the ground, hoping he'd have better luck using his weight to keep her pinned.

"Pete, no!" Artie called out, as one of Myka's hands flailed dangerously close to the Seeker's face. "She'll confess you!"

Pete, though, only had attention for Myka and Helena. "I can't hold her much longer, Helena! Go!"

Helena refused to budge. "I vowed to protect you, Lord Rahl-"

Pete, still trying to keep Myka in one place, cut Helena off. "You can't protect me if you're dead! Go!"

Artie grabbed Helena's arm when she continued to just stand there. "Head back to the inn we were at two days ago. We'll fix this somehow and meet you there. Now go, damn you!"

Helena, finally understanding that she wasn't simply being banished or abandoned, bolted from the clearing and into the trees. Myka, sensing that the object of her rage was getting away, made one final heroic effort to break Pete's hold, screaming her frustration to the heavens when it wasn't enough to set her free.

An eerie silence reigned for several minutes after that as Myka slowly regained her senses. Pete was the first one brave enough to speak to her. "Are you alright?"

Myka wouldn't even look at him, and Pete didn't care at all for the flat, emotionless tone of her response. "You shouldn't have stopped me. She deserved to die."

"You aren't yourself right now, Mykes," Pete insisted, shaking his head. "And even if you were, killing Helena out of vengeance won't bring back your sister or your nephew. The only person it would help is the Keeper."

Myka continued staring into the campfire - Pete kinda wished she'd cry or scream or yell, just anything other than her current disturbing numbness. Finally, she spoke. "This isn't about vengeance, Pete. Helena is a Mord-Sith - the only thing she knows how to do is torture and kill. Who knows where she'll go or what she'll do now? I have to find her and stop her."

Artie, at the end of his patience, jumped into the conversation. "Might I remind everyone that we have bigger problems than one unsupervised Mord-Sith? Much, much bigger problems?"

His tone softened a bit as he addressed Myka. "I'm sorry about your sister and her son, I really am, but getting the Stone Of Tears and sealing the Underworld back up has got to be our priority."

"He's right," Pete said gently, putting a hand on Myka's shoulder. "If we don't get Claudia to Pamorah and find the Stone Of Tears, the Keeper will destroy every living thing on the planet."

Sensing that he was starting to get through, Pete kept pleading. "I need you on this, Mykes. Who else is gonna watch my back like you?"

Myka just bowed her head a moment, as if thinking. When she looked back up, her eyes were as cold as Pete had ever seen them. "Fine - I'll go with you. But if I ever see her again, I *will* kill her..."


	4. 3.0 (Nikita)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Division Agents Helena Wells and Myka Bering get sent to Hong Kong to retrieve a rogue asset. Helena, meanwhile, has plans of her own for the trip that nothing - not even the mission itself - is going to get in the way of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fourth in a collection of seven AUs spotlighting Bering & Wells - one for each day of AU Week. Some will be one-offs, others I hope to revisit in more detail later.
> 
> I admit it. This - an HG-centric retelling of the Nikita episode '3.0' - is purely the result of my brain skewing two particular Michael/Nikita moments into Helena/Myka moments. You're welcome.

Helena Wells had to admit that life was pretty good these days - actually, blasting down the road in a borrowed Claudia-Donovan-special Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG, she had to admit that life was *very* good.

It was hard to believe that, mere weeks ago, she and those dearest to her had been hunted fugitives, with no real future ahead of them except running until they were captured or killed. Now, though, with Division under Arthur Nielsen's leadership - thanks to a desperate gambit that appeared to have paid off in spades - there was a chance for *every* Division agent to get their life back.

That, of course, was entirely contingent upon the successful completion of Division's assigned task: mopping up the various messes the black ops agency had left in its wake under the previous management, and bringing in every agent so that all assets could be accounted for and the place shut down properly.

To that end, Helena was currently tearing down the road in the borrowed Mercedes, in search of her fellow agent - and, more importantly, girlfriend - Myka Bering. Myka had been the one spearheading the quest to tear Division down - with near-fanatical single-mindedness - but had seen the benefits of leaving the place running long enough to provide for the agents they'd be displacing.

Myka, as predicted, was standing outside a local bookstore, being chatted up by a couple of cute men, and actually enjoying it for once. Helena certainly couldn't fault Myka's admirers - the woman was a vision, with her long legs, green eyes, and curly dark hair, especially when relaxed and smiling as she currently was.

The two men, from what Helena could hear as she pulled up, were discussing whatever had gone on at the book club they'd just gotten out of while also trying to get Myka to give up both her name and her agreement to meet them for coffee. It was the sort of terribly mundane moment they'd all thought lost to them, and it was marvelous.

Before Myka could reveal her name, though, Helena did it for her, peering over her sunglasses as she leaned out the car window. "Myka, darling! You're needed back at the office - Arthur said it was something of a minor emergency."

If the way Myka Bering's face lit up when she saw Helena Wells there wasn't enough of a clue, the men flirting with her certainly had it all clarified for them when Myka raced over to kiss her girlfriend. Fortunately, they took it with good grace and a laugh, grinning back at Myka as she waved goodbye. "Sorry, boys! Duty calls!"

Myka's happy mood faded to something more pensive, however, as they drove back to Division and then down into the agency's parking structures. Slouching in her seat even after her door slid open, Myka stared balefully at the empty bay around them. "I'm still not used to being back here..."

Helena just smiled - she could understand Myka's apprehension completely. "Don't fret, darling - it's taking time, but things *are* changing."

The elevator doors opened just then, and a slim, somewhat hyper redhead - otherwise known as Claudia Donovan - burst out of them. "HG! You can't just steal my Mercedes whenever you feel like joyriding - I'm not finished working on this one!"

Myka chuckled, then muttered under her breath. "*Some* things are changing, anyway..."

Of course, it was easy enough for Helena - as a fellow techie and engineer - to distract Claudia from her annoyance about her precious vehicle. Myka followed the conversation for about 90 seconds before it went over her head - give her literature, linguistics, or the biological sciences any day - and then she just cleared her throat. "Artie called a meeting?"

Claudia just grinned. "We finally got a ping off one of our Dirty Thirty crew. You two ready to go kick some super-spy ass?"

The Dirty Thirty, as they'd been dubbed, were the thirty heavy hitters who had refused to return to Division when the call had gone out after the change in management. They were exactly the sort of potential trouble that had gotten the President's tentative agreement to let Division keep going - there was literally no other agency with the right tools to deal with these people quietly and discreetly.

Arthur Nielsen - Artie to his friends - was his usual gruff, grumbling self as he chided them all for taking so long, but they could all tell he was enjoying his new post. The meeting itself didn't take long - their target, an agent named Martin, was in Hong Kong, and had popped up on the grid due to his potential involvement in the deaths of several CIA agents there.

Many, many long hours on a plane later - long hours during which the two women probably scandalized a good portion of their fellow fliers in their attempt to stave off boredom - Helena and Myka were checking into a hotel in Hong Kong under the respective aliases of Emily and Sara Lake.

Myka, of course, was quite taken with the beautiful, romantic suite they got ushered into. "I could totally get used to this."

Helena just grinned at her as she rifled through her luggage, taking advantage of Myka's distraction to deftly transfer a ring box from a suitcase to her coat pocket. Sneaking a quick peek at the ring in the process, Helena had to fight back a grin - she had every intention of adding a couple extra days for relaxation and romance to the trip once the mission was complete.

Of course, Helena's own distraction let Myka catch her completely by surprise - the curly-haired agent was apparently feeling a little frisky, grinning as she pulled Helena close and started tugging at her clothes. Helena almost panicked as she scrambled to keep Myka from finding the ring box, but she managed to get her coat off with Myka none the wiser.

Myka, of course, had noticed something off about that, but took it for the usual mission jitters they all experienced. Still grinning, she just made a joke about Helena needing to relax, right before knocking Helena's feet out from under her and sending her sprawling onto the bed.

Helena certainly wasn't going to argue with the distraction - not unless they were talking a matter of life and death, at least - but it apparently wasn't meant to happen. Myka, in the middle of unbuttoning Helena's shirt, had groaned and pulled away, clearly experiencing an unwanted 'eureka' moment.

They both knew by now never to disregard those, so Helena just lay there patiently as Myka gathered her thoughts. "What is it, darling?"

Myka was already searching for her comm piece. "Martin's no monk. His cover is a fashion photographer right? Maybe he had a favorite model..."

"Nice call, Myka," Claudia confirmed a couple minutes later. "Looks like a model named Lynn Capshaw is his fave - she even lives in Hong Kong."

There was a pause and some background chatter as Claudia confirmed the address, and Helena watched Myka roll her eyes. "Are you *still* fighting with Todd? Whatever you did this time, just apologize - you two are driving the rest of us crazy."

Claudia's response, though good-natured, did not bear repeating in mixed company. Still, she got them the address they needed and confirmed that Capshaw was home - a little while later, they were changed, prepped, and approaching Capshaw's apartment door.

The silence as they knocked did not bode well at all, triggering instincts Helena had honed over years of work in the field. Those instincts proved correct, as the mission went to hell in a matter of minutes. Martin, somehow detecting Division's presence, had done the only thing he could think of to save himself - he'd snapped Lynn Capshaw's neck, leaving the body behind, then called in the police anonymously to ensure that the agents after him took the blame for her murder.

With the police literally at the door, Helena could see only one way out. Myka balked at first, but didn't have any real choice - she ran while Helena stayed behind to be arrested, mollifying the police and allowing at least one of the agents to work without the interference of a manhunt. It was just like a similar mission in Bolivia, really - once things were in order, Myka would be able to free Helena from police custody with little to no trouble.

The arrest and subsequent booking were depressingly routine, and Helena was tempted to cause a little trouble just to alleviate her boredom. She didn't, though, biding her time instead - the Inspector assigned to her case was entertaining at least, unduly (or perhaps rightly) suspicious of an English woman traveling on an American passport.

The worst part was having to sit there patiently, able to do nothing but wait while Myka completed their mission. Helena did her best to fill the time, amusing herself by indulging in a little verbal fencing with the oh-so-paranoid Inspector - he looked almost angry somehow when she began addressing him in perfect Cantonese, requesting her lawyer and contact with her Embassy.

The situation stopped being so amusing, however, when that same Inspector mistakenly concluded that the ring the officers found in Helena's coat pocket - a gorgeous and expensive confection capped off with a diamond solitaire, quite clearly an engagement ring - was somehow proof of motive in Capshaw's murder. Helena had to fight not to roll her eyes and call the man an imbecile. Instead, she just smiled at him sweetly. "I never got the chance to propose, actually. On that note, I *will* be needing the ring returned to me as soon as possible..."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the plan for her release got set into motion - the cavalry, it seemed, had been successfully called in. Pete Lattimer - a fellow Division agent, and a card-carrying member of what he jokingly called 'Team Myka' - sauntered into the interrogation room pretending to be Helena's Embassy-appointed lawyer, using the guise and a cleverly constructed code to catch Helena up on the situation even as he secretly returned her comm unit.

Helena and Pete even got to share a cleverly concealed laugh over the image of fellow 'Team Myka' agent Steve Jinks throwing a diva-esque tantrum out in the lobby so he could plant a remote access bug of some kind for Claudia. Pete managed to conceal his happy grin when Helena communicated her need to retrieve the engagement ring before leaving, but it was clear he was pleased and not altogether surprised.

All in all, things seemed to be smoothly back on track - of course, it didn't stay that way for long.

Not even a moment or two after Pete had taken care of his current part in Helena's rescue, several officers from the Ministry of State Security - Chinese intelligence, the last people they wanted in the middle of this - approached the Inspector outside the interrogation room and demanded that Helena be turned over to them.

Pete, of course, was swiftly ousted from the room, but he managed to convey first that everything would still be alright if Helena just kept calm and waited. Helena's earpiece only connected her back to Claudia, and by extension, the rest of Division, but that was plenty - between the two of them, Helena and Claudia managed to lock Helena into the interrogation room so that she couldn't be moved until she chose to be.

Once she and Claudia finally decided to let the MSS officers in - a new rescue plan had been formulated, though the specifics were unknown to her - Helena tried to insist that she had personal items that simply must be transferred with her. Even as she watched, though, the Inspector who'd so misliked her picked up the ring box and pocketed it.

Helena spent the trip from the interrogation room to the police station doors imagining the many painful ways she could recover that ring, even while still in handcuffs - it was a pointless exercise really, but it kept her from lashing out. Once outside, though, she had all the distraction she could possibly want.

She didn't really have time to put the specifics together, but the general picture was clear enough. Myka had somehow managed to take the commander of the MSS officers hostage inside his own vehicle, effectively removing him from play. Pete, for his part, had taken out Martin and was currently using Martin's sniper rifle to fire at the various MSS and police officers - clever, that, as the now deceased Martin would be blamed for everything.

Helena spotted Myka as she ousted the MSS chief from his vehicle, and beelined for her through all the commotion. She turned to give one last forlorn glance back at the lost engagement ring - just in time to see the Inspector come rushing out of the building with a few fellow police officers at his side.

Myka moved to help the still-handcuffed Helena into the black SUV - it was *always* a black SUV, after all - but Helena reached for Myka's gun instead. "Give me the gun, darling!"

Myka just blinked in confusion, searching for the new threat. "What? Why?"

Helena, pushed to the end of her endurance, couldn't prevent herself from snapping at her girlfriend a little. "Just give me the bloody Glock!"

There really wasn't anything else for Myka to do but comply. "Where are you going? Helena-!"

"To get your engagement ring!" Helena, already in motion now that she had gun in hand, was at least able to get a glimpse of Myka's stunned but smiling face as the words registered on her.

Myka stayed somewhat stunned for the next several minutes, or she surely would have rushed over to help Helena deal with the handful of police officers she was fighting. Not that Helena really needed the help - her rather one-sided brawl was actually the most fun she'd had all day, and was, in her opinion, over all too swiftly. She did, of course, kick the Inspector a time or two once he was down on sheer principle alone.

Helena grabbed the ring as quickly as she could, then dashed back to Myka. It was too bad, really, that Helena didn't have time to properly enjoy having derailed Myka's brain so thoroughly - instead, she hurried them both into the SUV so they could go rendezvous with Pete and the others.

Needless to say, the romantic extension to their trip that Helena had planned to use was now out of the question. Myka tried to bring up the ring during the flight home, but Helena deflected her every time, saying only that she needed to reformulate her original plans for the proposal now that they were headed back to the States.

It took a few days, especially with all the reports and debriefing once they returned to Division, but Helena finally devised a proposal scenario she deemed acceptable - there was no way for it to be a surprise any longer, of course, but Myka was more than willing to play along anyway.

She bought them tickets to the opera - a shared love they hadn't had time to indulge, despite now being free to do so - and reserved a table at the new restaurant Myka had been pining to try. Date nights, for any reason whatsoever, were a rare and precious commodity for the two of them, and they put aside any thoughts of the impending proposal in order to simply enjoy the evening out.

Finally, though, everything fell into place as they strolled through a nearby plaza after a wonderful show and amazing dinner - they looked quite dashing together, Helena was certain, with Myka in her clinging dress and Helena in her perfectly-tailored tuxedo. There was a beautifully lit old fountain in the center of that plaza, and Helena led them over to it, deciding that it was absolutely perfect.

Myka, taking a seat on the fountain's edge, seemed to understand that the moment had finally arrived. "Helena, you don't have to do this just because I saw the ring..."

"Nonsense, darling," Helena replied. "It's tradition, and I am, despite all outward appearances, quite a traditional woman. Also, you have no idea how damned difficult it was to find you the perfect ring."

With that, Helena went to one knee and held out the open ring box - Myka, still chuckling at Helena's complaint about her difficulties ring shopping, gasped quietly as she got a good look at it for the first time. It was beautiful, all glimmering diamonds and gleaming platinum...

Helena gave her prospective fiancee a moment to recover her wits before she finally spoke. "Myka-"

"Oh god," Myka choked out, too moved to stay silent, "you had me at 'Give me the bloody Glock'..."

One could argue that Helena's smug grin as she slipped the ring onto Myka's finger was totally justified. One could also argue that she wouldn't own the tears shining in her eyes nearly so quickly - though at least Myka was every bit as teary-eyed, which helped Helena to save at least a little face.

It took a moment for them both to feel entirely steady again, and even then Myka was a little shaky in her heels as she got back to her feet. There was actually applause and cheering as the newly-engaged couple hugged and then kissed, but they were so wrapped up in each other that they never even heard it...


	5. I Need You To Tell Me What Happened (The Crow)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homicide victims did not return from the dead to exact bloody vengeance on their murderers - Detective Myka Bering knew this with absolute certainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fifth in a collection of seven AUs spotlighting Bering & Wells - one for each day of AU Week. Some will be one-offs, others I hope to revisit in more detail later.
> 
> I'm on the fence with this one - it would make an awesome fusion, but The Crow is a little darker than I'm comfortable writing. That said, I was struck by how much more human Eric seemed during his scenes with Albrecht, and decided to play with that a bit here.

Homicide victims did not return from the dead to exact bloody vengeance on their murderers - Detective Myka Bering knew this with absolute certainty.

It was, on the other hand, rather hard to dismiss what she'd seen with her own two eyes - or thought she'd seen, to be precise, as there had to be some logical explanation for what she'd witnessed earlier that night.

She'd had her partner Pete pull the Wells files while she finished her report on the pawn shop explosion - a report that failed to include the rather bizarre conversation she'd had there with an even more bizarre woman in a bird mask. It was risky, poking around again into the same case she'd almost gotten dismissed for obsessing over the first time, but Myka was confident that Pete would cover for her.

He'd hated having to let the case drop just as much as she had, and that's why - safely tucked into her tiny apartment, far away from work, and nursing a beer to fortify herself - she'd told Pete about the strange woman asking about Christina Wells. She wasn't sure she was actually comforted by the fact that her partner believed her, or by the fact that he was more prepared than she was to believe that Helena Wells had somehow returned from the dead.

The woman Myka had spoken with certainly looked like Helena Wells - maybe a sister or a twin or something, though records showed that there wasn't one, just a brother over in London. That didn't necessarily rule out a sibling who just wasn't on record, but the idea seemed a little far-fetched.

Myka, sitting at her kitchen staring at copies of the case files, couldn't prevent a bitter laugh. A ghost or zombie or something, sure, no problem, but an unknown sister somehow strained belief? Turning back to the files in front of her, she stared again at the photo of Helena G Wells that Pete had hastily drawn a bird mask on - nothing new came to her, though, and she shoved herself away from the table with a sigh of frustration.

Knowing that obsessing over the case all night wasn't going to accomplish a damn thing, Myka took a quick shower and got ready for bed, promising herself she'd take a fresh look the next day. She'd just barely drifted off when a loud noise out in the living area jerked her back to full consciousness - grabbing her gun from her bedside table, she padded silently across her bedroom and slipped through the open door.

The apartment was mostly dark, but there was enough ambient light to make out a dark figure standing at the kitchen table, quietly leafing through the various parts of the Wells file she'd left scattered across it. Raising and aiming her gun in one smooth motion, Myka announced her presence. "Not one move!"

The figure reached up very slowly and cautiously - hand splayed to show it was empty - and turned on the light above the table. Fortunately, Myka's eyes adjusted quickly to the sudden brightness - not that what she saw made her any less inclined to lower her weapon.

Trusting in her instincts, she did so anyway. "Jesus H. Christ, lady! I could have shot you! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Helena Wells - it couldn't be anyone else now that Myka was face-to-face with her again - chuckled darkly, something flickering across those unnerving black eyes. She'd removed the mask and set it on the table, but it didn't make her any easier to read. "I didn't mean to frighten you, Detective. I... need your help."

Myka, unsettled, reached over and switched on another light. "You have a funny way of asking for it."

Helena actually smiled as her eyes raked over Myka, a flare of all-too-human interest crossing her face before it faded away. It was more disturbing in its way than the mad glint it had replaced, and Myka suddenly felt very exposed as she realized that she was standing there in just a tank top and boy shorts.

Myka waved vaguely at the fridge. "Get some food or a drink or something. I'll be right back."

She emerged from her room a moment later wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, which Helena seemed to find amusing. "There was no need to dress up on my account, darling."

Myka watched the other woman putter around her tiny kitchen like she owned it, seemingly intent on making them both a cup of tea. The sheer normalcy of it just seemed wrong, given everything, and Myka found she couldn't stay silent. "How are you even here? You... died. I watched them bury you - you and..."

Myka trailed off then, not sure what might happen if she mentioned poor little Christina Wells. Helena seemed to understand what she was getting at, though. "You watched them bury me alongside my daughter. I understand, and I haven't any more idea than you do of how I'm standing here before you. All I know is that I am."

Helena set a cup of tea in front of Myka before taking a seat with her own, and they sat in silence as they sipped absently at the brew. Myka watched Helena's every move, of course, and it seemed that the other woman became more and more human with each moment that passed - something... other still lingered behind her eyes, of course, but it wasn't nearly as pronounced now.

Finally, Helena spoke, and Myka could almost pretend she was simply sitting with any one of the bereaved family members she dealt with on a daily basis. "Detective Bering, I have two favors to ask of you, though I understand that I hardly have any right to impose. The first, odd though it may sound, is the use of your shower."

Myka blinked at the unexpected request. "My shower?"

"Indeed." Helena smiled then, but it faded away almost instantly. "Then - once I am presentable and in better control of my faculties - I need you to tell me what happened the night I... we died."

It wasn't the oddest request Myka had ever had from someone involved in one of her cases, not by a long shot, and she was more than willing to encourage Helena's attempts to pull herself together - Myka was convinced the woman had had something to do with the explosion at the pawn shop, and her gut said that she could only expect her to stay this rational for so long before reverting back to whatever it was she had been when they'd encountered each other there.

She managed to find something for Helena to wear - a pair of old sweats, which Helena was still oddly grateful for - and then sat down to check the files over again while she waited. Helena's mask caught her eye instead, though, and she picked it up to get a closer look - it was a small black and silver mask shaped like a diving crow or raven, with a large circular piece of moonstone at the top and small red gemstones for the bird's eyes.

The bird motif fit, somehow...

"It was meant to be part of my Halloween costume," Helena said softly. The woman was now at Myka's left shoulder, having somehow managed to approach without making a single sound - that stunt, plus the lingering sense of just being off somehow, meant that not even old, worn, borrowed sweats could make Helena Wells look innocuous.

Myka forced herself to appear composed even as her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest. "Please don't do that."

Helena grinned - again, almost human but still not quite - though it didn't really reach her eyes. Taking a seat across from Myka, she picked up the mask that the other woman had dropped onto the table. "I'm ready, Detective. I need to know what happened that night."

"There isn't any nice way for me to explain all of this," Myka warned as she gestured at the file scattered across the table. "I'll try, but..."

Helena nodded her understanding, and Myka pushed on into a recap she did her best to frame as gently as possible. "A group of armed thugs were sent after you at your apartment. You fought like hell, but they overpowered you. They... beat and raped you, then shot you multiple times."

"That matches what I remember," Helena said quietly after a moment, though Myka suspected she was nowhere near as calm and in control as her voice implied.

She got up from her chair then, pacing around the tiny dining area as she toyed with the locket at her throat. Finally, she turned back to face Myka, seeming both strangely human and strangely vulnerable. "My Christina... The men who abused me - did they-?"

Helena couldn't say the words, but Myka knew what she was asking and shook her head. "They never touched her. As strange as it sounds, I don't think they ever even knew she was there."

Helena looked confused. "Then how did she die?"

"As best we can tell," Myka said, "she was hiding - I'm assuming you told her to once you realized something was wrong. The thugs shot the place up after shooting you, and Christina got hit by stray bullets that went through the walls."

Myka blinked back the tears that came whenever she thought about that night. "I was the one that found her. Your little girl was so strong, Helena - she held on in intensive care for 30 hours, until she just couldn't fight any more."

That called to mind something Myka had almost forgotten, and she jumped to her feet. "I'll be right back - I have something, something of Christina's I think you'll want."

It only took a couple minutes to find the item in its box and return to the living room. Myka knew it by heart now, had stared at it so often that she'd memorized every inch of it - a white mask sized for a child, shaped like a dove with its wings spread.

"Christina was holding this when I found her," Myka explained as she held the mask out to Helena. "I brought it home for safekeeping once it was processed. I'm not sure why - maybe I just couldn't stand to think of it sitting there gathering dust when it obviously meant so much to her."

Helena reached out to take the mask while simultaneously placing a hand on Myka's bare wrist to thank her, and the world suddenly spun into a sickening freefall. It was like the worst case of vertigo Myka had ever had, including all the nausea that went with it, and she considered it a minor miracle that whatever was in her stomach stayed there once the world righted itself.

Myka's knees buckled and she let herself fall into a chair. "What the hell did you just do to me?"

Helena, to be fair, seemed equally startled, if considerably less queasy. "I... saw Christina, through your eyes."

She looked at Myka as if in awe. "You stayed with her the whole time, were holding her hand when she died."

"I couldn't leave her there alone," Myka admitted, tears threatening again. "I was hoping she'd pull through after all, and maybe help us get the bastards who'd attacked you both."

The madness returned to Helena's eyes for a split second, but she fought it back as she tugged at her locket again. "Why didn't you - get them, I mean?"

Myka made an angry, frustrated noise as she yanked a hand through her curls. "I tried - no one would talk, not after what had happened to the two of you. Some of them wanted to help, I could see it in their eyes, but they were too scared. Finally, I annoyed the wrong people and was told I'd be fired if I didn't let the case go."

That seemed to mollify Helena, who glanced around Myka's apartment as she tried to compose herself. Her eyes settled on a framed photograph of Myka and Pete, and she moved to examine it more closely. "Is this your partner?"

"Pete," Myka confirmed, unable to completely suppress her smile. "Best damn partner and surrogate brother a girl could wish for."

Helena smiled back - this time, it reached her eyes. Her tone, like that smile, was a little wistful. "I know it sounds hopelessly trite, Detective, but cherish your loved ones. You truly never know how much time you'll have together."

"I know," Myka agreed in a voice that said she'd known her own share of loss. "Believe me, I know."

Busying herself to cover the sudden flare of emotion, Myka gathered up the various papers on the table and put them all back in the file. After that, she carried both dirty coffee mugs into the kitchen and placed them in the sink.

"Listen," she called out to Helena, "do you have someplace to stay?"

There was no answer, and she stepped back out into the dining room to find that Helena was fast asleep on her couch, seeming not so much scary and supernatural as simply weary and lost. Shaking her head at the strangeness that had suddenly invaded her life, Myka grabbed the spare blanket and placed it over her sleeping visitor.

Helena Wells was gone when Myka woke up the next morning, and Myka couldn't quite explain the sudden sense of loneliness that came over her in the other woman's absence.


	6. Saving Storybrooke (Once Upon A Time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no way out now - no portal to send Storybrooke's residents to safety, and no portal to send the self-destruct device away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warehouse 13/Once Upon A Time fusion with Myka as the Savior and Helena as the Evil Queen. (And also, Claudia as the resident werewolf...) Specifically, my take on the scene from the Season Two finale where Emma and Regina save Storybrooke - I was kinda surprised how Berings And Wells it actually ended up being when I started converting it over...

"There's no bean. He played us." Silence fell as Myka held up the empty leather pouch and the bitter truth set in. There was no way out now - no portal to send Storybrooke's residents to safety, and no portal to send the self-destruct device away.

Only Helena - who'd already been hard at work for the last hour trying to diffuse the magical nuke she herself had created so long ago - failed to visibly react.

Pete just stared at Myka, acceptance and regret in his eyes - he'd only even come to Storybrooke to check on Myka, but there was no anger or blame. Christina, old enough to understand exactly what was happening, clung to Claudia for whatever reassurance the redheaded werewolf could offer her - that werewolf, for her part, stood silently, trying to be strong for the little girl wrapped around her.

Myka couldn't bring herself to speak as she watched Pete reach out to comfort her little girl. She'd always said that he'd be an amazing father when he and Amanda were ready, and now...

Tears in her eyes, she mouthed the only words she could find. "I'm sorry..."

Helena's voice, as tense and frightened as any of them had ever heard, broke the silence. "Myka? I can't contain this for much longer."

Christina's head came up at the sound of her mother's voice, and she ran over to stand beside her. For the first time since Myka's arrival, the little girl was watching Helena with eyes full of nothing but love and faith and hope. "You can do this, Mother! I know you can."

Tears started rolling down Helena's cheeks, though it was impossible to say if it was from the effort of containing so much magic or the effort of deciding to be absolutely truthful with her daughter. "I'm so very sorry, my darling girl. The one time you truly need me, and I'm just not strong enough..."

Christina gave a little sob and threw her arms around Helena. Helena closed her eyes, smiling even through her tears at the unexpected show of affection, and Myka blinked in surprise as the glowing ball of energy trapped between Helena's hands momentarily changed in both color and intensity.

Acting on the same finely-honed instincts that had made her such a good agent, she stepped forward toward the former queen. "Helena? Why did you make this device? What were you feeling?"

When Helena didn't answer, Myka asked again, even more insistently. "What were you feeling, Helena?"

Helena drew in a shaky breath. "I was angry, bitter. I hated everything and everyone. What does that matter now?"

Myka, still not explaining, pressed on. "And what do you feel, now?"

Helena looked toward her daughter, as if weighing how much the little girl should hear. "Sorrow. Regret. Love."

The glow changed again - ever so briefly - and Helena eyes widened as she suddenly caught Myka's train of thought. "I can't, Myka. I'm still too angry, even after all this time..."

Myka paused just long enough to glance at Pete - who gave her the tiny nod that meant his vibes agreed with her decision - then closed the few remaining steps between herself and Helena. "I was that angry once, too, Helena - Storybrooke helped me start healing. It gave me the fresh start *you* wanted when you cast the curse."

She reached out her hands, gasping as her hands closed on cold metal. The device was finally visible from within the black glow surrounding it, and was beautiful - all gilded angles and curves, like some sort of steampunk astrolabe.

It was a device meant only to destroy, but Myka couldn't help standing in awe of its creator. "You... made this?"

Before Helena could answer, though, the magic broke through Myka's defenses and slammed into her. Her knees almost buckled under a sudden wave of rage and helplessness and pain stronger than she'd ever felt before.

This... this was what it was like to be Helena...

Helena's voice in her head almost made her let go of the astrolabe, but she managed to hold on. "Yes, Myka. This is me, laid bare, sorry creature that I am..."

"This isn't all you are," Myka insisted, not even fighting the notion that magic could somehow link their minds. "You wouldn't fight so hard for Christina's love if it were."

The mention of Christina sent a flare of hope and happiness through Helena, and Myka seized on it as best she could. She'd never believed anyone who loved their child that fiercely could be completely evil, and she'd known enough pain in her life to know when someone was lashing out because of it.

Love for their daughter - their Christina - was the one thing they shared without question or argument or hesitation, and Myka let that love flood through the mental bond with Helena. It breathed new life into that tiny, damaged seed of hope inside Helena's soul - there was no way even that one shining moment could heal Helena completely, but it gave her strength to push the darkness back and let love shine through instead.

The astrolabe gave a sudden whine and a click, then went still. Myka and Helena had just enough time to exchange surprised but happy glances before a wave of purple energy shot out of the device and darkness took them both.

They were lying tangled in a heap on the ground when consciousness returned a moment later. For whatever reason, it felt right to cling to each other just then, even as Pete and Claudia rushed over to check on them.

"Mykes? Is this thing turned off now?" Pete stood over them with the astrolabe in his hands, shaking it as if to see whether it would start moving again.

Myka laughed out loud as she saw Helena twitch at Pete's careless actions, instinctively pulling the other woman closer. "We did it!"

Helena, startled at first, also threw her head back and laughed - the first genuine laugh Myka had heard out of her in two years. "So we did, darling - so we did."

Claudia grinned at them both. "That was some pretty sharp thinking there, Sheriff. I guess we know how Christina ended up too smart for her own good."

Myka, dizzy on magic and adrenaline, couldn't help laughing again. "You hear that, kiddo? You get it from me."

Joy suddenly turned to cold sharp fear when Christina didn't answer. In a matter of heartbeats, all four adults were on their feet and racing down the mine tunnel, hoping that Christina had just been frightened and run back towards the entrance.

They all stopped short as they came upon Christina's book bag lying on the ground, one strap broken as if in a struggle. It was all too clear what had happened while they were unconscious.

That didn't stop Myka from stating the obvious. "They took her. Sally and Marcus, they took Christina!"

"Sheriff Bering?" Helena's voice as she replied was all ice and steel. "Shall we go get our daughter back?"

Helena and Myka shared a look, then, before marching in perfect unison back toward the entrance of the mine. Pete couldn't help feeling just a little bit sorry for the idiots who'd been stupid enough to kidnap Christina Wells...


	7. Loss (Law And Order: SVU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case was a dog from the minute they caught it - even by SVU standards, which was saying something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The seventh and final entry for the Sampler, written for AU Week 2013.
> 
> This is basically the last 6 minutes or so of the _Law And Order: SVU_ episode _Loss_ , converted over to Bering And Wells.

The case was a dog from the minute they caught it - even by SVU standards, which was saying something.

Their dead hooker Livia Telles had ended up being dead cop Livia Sandoval, deep undercover inside a major Colombian drug ring. To make matters worse, Sandoval had been undercover for the DEA, and her handlers had immediately stepped in to keep SVU from investigating any further.

Captain Nielsen had managed to get permission to continue investigating, but only if they worked the case as originally presented to them - no mention of Sandoval's true identity, and no pursuit of any leads that might reveal it.

And damned if SVU hadn't pulled it off, arresting the very dangerous and very connected Rafael Zapata for Sandoval's rape and murder. Of course, things had gone straight to hell again from there when they'd been ordered to reveal the sources they'd worked so hard to keep confidential.

Helena Wells, the Assistant District Attorney handling the case, had been livid - and far from willing to jeopardize her career or freedom, even for the SVU unit. She'd been even less amused when Zapata tried to attack her when she went to offer a plea deal, and she stopped laughing altogether when death threats were made against herself and her daughter Christina.

The DEA agent who'd been feeding SVU their intel - one of Sandoval's handlers, a man named Donovan - had agreed to come forward once he heard about those death threats. He ended up dead mere moments after talking to Helena, when his car exploded in front of Helena and half the SVU team.

(The similarity in last name hadn't been lost on any of them, and it was safe to say that each member of the team found some pretext to hug Claudia that night - Myka, Pete, Steve, even Helena.

That was also the night that Nielsen gave Helena his old service revolver, complete with expedited permits, and the night when Pete and Myka accompanied Helena to the airport as she placed Christina on a plane to go stay with her family in London.)

Unfortunately, the now-deceased Agent Donovan - and God did that phrase creep them all out - had taken their case with him when he died. Helena's boss had decided to drop the case, leaving the Feds to go after Zapata for murdering one of their own - it wasn't a bad call, as the Feds had a much better case and could at least put Zapata away, but it was still infuriating.

(Though, to be honest, it had been immensely gratifying to see the smugness fade from Zapata's face as the Feds moved in to arrest him the second Helena motioned to drop her charges.)

They'd all needed a little downtime, so they'd all met up at one of the station's favorite cop bars - even Artie, who hadn't been Captain Nielsen to the SVU team in years. Pete, of course, stuck to his beloved root beer - after several years sober, he was quite content with that - while the others shared a pitcher of beer.

Artie got a call not long after they all settled in, which he happily summed up for everyone. The FBI had connected Zapata to the car bomb and gotten him to flip on his boss, Cesar Velez. The DEA was hopeful of an indictment for Velez - from there, the Colombians could arrest him and start the extradition process.

The fact that Zapata had struck a deal dimmed the otherwise happy mood a bit, but not much. Steve and Claudia bantered good-naturedly for a bit between themselves, and even with Artie a little, before all three called it a night due to an early morning.

That left Myka, Pete, and Helena still sitting there, and it didn't take long for alcohol and fatigue to catch up with Helena. Not that Pete and Myka could blame her even a little - she'd been remarkably resilient through the whole ordeal, all things considered.

Pete did his best to try and cheer her up, even using the nickname Claudia had given her. "We've had a good run, HG - conviction rates are way up. We can't win 'em all."

"I'd call getting Zapata and Velez a win," Myka argued. "Livia Sandoval would be happy with it."

Helena just sighed in frustration, tugging her fingers through her hair. Her London accent was even more pronounced than usual when she finally spoke. "It just never seems like enough. We may have gotten Zapata, but he'll never stand trial for what he did to Livia Sandoval."

She paused to sip at her beer again. "We tell ourselves that we speak for the victims, that we close their cases and get them justice, but we all know that their lives will never be the same again."

It was a familiar sentiment among the SVU team, and Pete just nodded his understanding. Myka, in a rare affectionate gesture, reached out to squeeze Helena's hand.

Helena shook her head a little, as if trying to shake off her black mood. "I think I've had enough for one night. Shall we go?"

If they hadn't been so tired and so disheartened by the last few days, they might have been paying better attention as they bickered good-naturedly over how Helena was getting home. As it was, Pete's famous 'vibes' didn't kick in until the black car had pulled up beside them and opened fire.

To be fair, Pete moved fast once he spotted the danger - he tackled Myka and Helena, getting them both onto the ground before Myka's amazing reflexes had even kicked in. Once that was done, he got right back to his feet again and raced off after the car.

It took about that long for Myka's brain to catch up, and she cautiously poked her head up to see if it was safe yet. That was when she looked over to check on Helena. "Helena-"

Helena was on the ground, eyes closed, bleeding from a gunshot wound to her shoulder. Her breathing was frighteningly shallow from Myka's vantage point, and Myka couldn't help speaking out loud as she raced over to her. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no. No, no, no. "

Helena's blood was hot and sticky against Myka's hands as she fought desperately to stop the bleeding. She didn't even look up as she barked out commands with all the authority of a career law enforcement officer. "Someone call an ambulance! Call 911 - now!"

Outwardly, Myka looked every bit the composed police officer. Inwardly, though, her world was slowly crumbling as her attempts to stop the bleeding failed, and words spilled out unbidden under her breath as she begged Helena to hold on. "It's okay, Helena. Come on, Helena, look at me. It's okay, sweetie. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me, Helena. The ambulance is on its way already.. You're gonna be okay. You hear me, Helena, you're gonna be okay. Open your eyes, look at me. You're gonna be just fine. You're gonna be just fine. Just stay with me."

Pete, out of breath from chasing the car, just stood there staring once he returned. Not for long, though - he quickly shook off his shock, and moved to make sure an ambulance was in fact on its way. Fortunately, most of the bar patrons were cops or friends of cops - they'd called for help the second Myka called out, and anyone who'd seen anything was already waiting to give their statement.

Myka, usually so perceptive, was completely oblivious to all of this. She was still struggling futilely to stop the bleeding, still muttering to herself in desperation even though her voice had dropped to a whisper. "Helena, Helena, Helena, Helena… You're gonna be okay. Just open your eyes and look at me."

Helena's eyes finally opened. They fluttered closed immediately afterward, though, as she gave a long, shaky exhale and her head rolled to one side.

_SVU Squad Room, 2 Days Later…_

The SVU squad room, normally so full of noise and activity, was hauntingly still and silent.

Myka sat in total silence at her desk, staring down at the badge she'd placed atop a law book Helena had left at the station. She'd done this every few hours over the last two days, and no one had had the heart to say anything about it - they all knew that there had been something unspoken between Myka and Helena, something that they'd never have the chance to explore now.

Claudia - who'd idolized Helena in her own way - was coping the only way she knew how, immersing herself in work until everything else faded away. Nothing she did could bring Helena back, but she could definitely continue to fight the good fight in Helena's name, and was busily pouring over case files.

Steve, for his part, alternated between keeping an eye on Claudia and keeping an eye on Myka and Pete. Myka - for reasons they all understood but were afraid to mention for fear of making things worse - was taking Helena's loss hardest, and even Pete was allowing his perpetually cheerful, optimistic facade to drop.

He was, in fact, currently scowling angrily at the front page of the morning newspaper. Helena Wells' death at the hands of a Colombian drug cartel was obviously front page news, and would be for some time.

Still, glaring angrily at the paper was a decidedly healthier, less frightening response than Myka's had been the first time she'd seen one of the headlines yesterday. They were still finding bits of the shredded newspaper all over the squad room…

The silence and stillness had just gone from calming to oppressive (again) when Artie came walking up, the sheer familiarity of his brusqueness something very like a breath of fresh air. "Do we have a trial date on the Richmond case yet?"

Myka, surprisingly, was the first to answer - somewhere in the time Steve had been scrutinizing Pete, she'd put her badge away and pulled her case files out. "We just got word it's been postponed."

Artie frowned in irritation - an oddly comforting gesture. "We're going to lose that witness. She was already shaky to begin with."

"There's nothing we can do," Pete reminded him. "They're having to pull in ADAs from other bureaus. It takes time."

Artie's impending commentary on that was cut off by a uniform handing him a note. His frown deepened as he read it. "Wonderful. Rafael Zapata was found dead in a holding cell while awaiting a hearing. No witnesses."

The resulting cacophony lasted just long enough for Claudia to get off a crack about missing the days when the government could just send in a Delta Force assassination squad. Artie cut them all off, directing his attention to Myka and Pete as he held out the note. "DEA Agent Hammond wants to see you two tonight - something about closing out the case. Here's the address."

The provided location for the meet ended up being a dark, abandoned lot in the middle of nowhere. There were three other cars - well, two cars and one SUV, all black - parked there when Pete and Myka arrived. If Hammond - Livia Sandoval's other handler - hadn't already been standing there in plain sight, the two detectives would probably have just turned around and left, or at very least called for backup.

As it was, nerves made Pete snarkier than ever. "Nice location. Convenient."

Hammond shrugged as if to say 'What can you do?'. "I'm sorry. It was the only way to do this."

Curiosity finally got the better of Myka. "Do what?"

Hammond nodded toward the black SUV in the center of the caravan before starting to walk towards it. "Wouldn't take no for an answer. Real pain in the ass, this one."

His voice held both amusement and respect along with his irritation, though, and the source became clear the second the back passenger door of the SUV opened. Moonlight outlined a familiar face that they'd thought they'd never see again as Helena Wells - alive and well - stepped into view.

Her eyes - usually so full of life - just looked sad and tired. "I am so sorry about all of this."

The words were ostensibly meant for both of them, but Pete knew they were really meant for Myka. Even if the apology was meant partly for him, it was pretty clear that Myka and Helena weren't paying a damn bit of attention to anyone else as they stood there staring into each other's eyes.

"Your funeral is tomorrow…" Myka whispered finally, and those words somehow conveyed everything she'd been through over the last few days.

Hammond, apparently oblivious to the scene playing out in front of him, interrupted the conversation. "And you're both expected to attend. For the time being, Miss Wells is better off dead. If Velez can get to Zapata, he can get to her."

It should have been obvious already, but that made finally everything click for Pete. "You're putting her in Witness Protection. What about Christina?"

Hammond looked to Helena then, clearly uncomfortable. "She's safer with her uncle in London for now."

Helena didn't even try to disguise her anger or bitterness. "Until Velez is extradited or otherwise dealt with."

Myka finally broke then, tears streaking down her cheeks as she watched Helena blink back her own. "How long?"

Helena opened her mouth as if to make one of her usual witty retorts, then closed it when nothing came to her. There was no answer to that question, and all Helena could do was shrug as she tried to keep from breaking down in front of everyone.

The two women just stood there staring at each other again, somehow trying to convey everything they'd thought they had so much time to say. Just when it looked like they'd get the courage up to at least hug each other goodbye, one of the marshals cut in.

"We need to move out," he explained apologetically.

Myka and Helena held eye contact for as long as they could, even after Helena had been safely locked back in the SUV. Neither of them was even trying to hide their tears anymore.

Pete put an arm around his partner while they watched the caravan drive away, offering what little reassurance he could as Myka leaned against him. "Don't worry, Mykes. She'll be back."


	8. Pain's A Bitch (Painkiller Jane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DEA Agent Myka Bering gets more than she bargained for when her latest bust takes a turn for the unexpected…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied - looks like I'll be adding to the Sampler after all. :) This one is a fusion with _Painkiller Jane_ , with a touch of _Sanctuary_.
> 
> This one was also in the summer installment of Shatterstorm Productions' [Femslash Advent Calendar](http://fsac.shatterstorm.net/), go check it out!

**************

_"My name is Jane Vasco. I work for a secret government agency that hunts neuros - people who can do... dangerous things with their minds._

_On my first assignment, something a little weird happened - okay, something really weird._

_Until I get some answers, I'm getting on with my life: doing my job, stocking up on aspirin - because, I gotta tell ya, pain's a bitch…"_

Jane Vasco, _Painkiller Jane_

**************

The music was blaring at painfully loud levels before they ever even reached the club. Myka Bering was pretty sure that the club was violating multiple city ordinances, but noise violations didn't exactly fall within the DEA's purview.

Myka's partner Pete Lattimer looked over at her and grinned, bobbing his head a little to whatever it was the club DJ was currently playing. They'd been staking out the club almost every night for the last three weeks in hopes of getting a lead on whoever was supplying the new designer drug that had recently hit the area.

Tonight was the big night - the investigation had paid off in spades and they were ready to make the bust. Myka had hated every minute of it, though - the heavy makeup, the little black dresses, the heels that she only ever wore when there was no avoiding it - but didn't dare say so. Of course, she didn't have to.

"We had enough to bring these guys in after the first week, Mykes," Pete reminded her, reading her mind like always. He just grinned at her as she glared at him.

"No buy, no bust, Pete," she replied. At that precise moment, though, her unshakeable mantra for building a solid case was less about her work ethic and more about wanting to be done with the case for good - before it left her with a permanent limp.

Annoyance flickered across Myka's face as the bouncer paused to very obviously check her out - she would clearly have preferred being able to simply flash her badge and get them in minus the once-over - and Pete couldn't resist one last salvo before everything had to turn all business. "Gotta play by the rules, right?"

Once inside, it didn't take them long to spot their targets - a pair of nondescript thirty-something males with lightish hair and light eyes that blended seamlessly into the club crowd - and discreetly move close enough to both see and hear them.

It looked like they'd arrived just in time. The two dealers were being joined by a pair of dark-haired women who fairly screamed 'buyer' - or rather, buyer and bodyguard. Neither was dressed completely right for the club, though both were attractive enough - and well-dressed enough - that no one was going to hold it against them.

The potential buyer was a little older than her companion, and her expensive black leather somehow still seemed more like business wear than clubwear. That could also have just been her demeanor, though - she was definitely all business as she approached the dealers, barely seeming to notice the blaring music or the people dancing near her.

The bodyguard wasn't playing around, either - her messy hair and slightly rumpled suit were just a little too carefully done to be natural, and every step she took made it clear that she knew how to do her job. In fact, the only break in her demeanor was a fleeting yet appreciative smile as her dark eyes raked over Myka while checking the area for visible threats.

Myka smiled back before she could stop herself, an unexpected heat flooding her cheeks, but forced herself to focus again when she caught Pete's smirk. He continued smirking even as Myka rolled her eyes - fortunately, nothing about the exchange had damaged their cover as club regulars.

Both dealers stood as the two women finally got within speaking distance, and Pete and Myka snapped back into full agent mode. This bust could be much bigger than they'd anticipated, if the buyer had enough power to make the two men this cautious.

The lead dealer was the picture of respect as he addressed the buyer, though his grammar left a little to be desired. "I've got the samples. You bring the money?"

The woman signaled her bodyguard - the gesture easily disguised as a flirtatious toss of her dark curls - and the other woman stepped forward. A quick play of hands later - a mere handshake to a casual observer - and both drugs and money had been exchanged.

The buyer leaned over to murmur in her bodyguard's ear, English accent clear even in her brief, clipped command. "Be ready…"

That didn't bode well - neither did the sudden presence of a foreign national in their bust - and Pete and Myka immediately moved to wrap things up while everything was still going more or less according to plan. It took mere seconds after that for it to all go to hell.

The bodyguard - still holding the drugs - bolted as soon as she realized what was happening. That wouldn't have been surprising in the least, except that the buyer and the dealers all bolted in the opposite direction. Or rather, the dealers bolted and the buyer raced after them instead of her bodyguard for absolutely no discernable reason…

Myka went for the nearest target - and the fastest. The bodyguard wasn't quite fast enough, though - even in heels, Myka was right behind her, at least until the crowd got in the way. Ditching her heels, Myka hopped up onto the bar, pausing only to locate her quarry before racing down the long countertop after her.

The brief footrace was followed by a beautiful flying tackle that Pete would forever after lament missing, which ended with Myka pinning the bodyguard to the ground. Quickly snagging the woman's gun, Myka leveled it at her. "DEA. Don't move."

The bodyguard, seemingly unconcerned, just smirked at her. "Most women prefer that I do move, darling."

It figured that the woman was English as well - from London, unless Myka missed her guess - but Myka didn't really have time to dwell on it. As soon as another agent stepped in to secure the woman, Myka was back up on her feet and running for the private rooms at the back of the club, where the buyer and two dealers had been headed.

She assumed that Pete was right behind her, realizing that he wasn't only as she barreled into the room where the buyer and two dealers were apparently having some sort of confrontation instead of just running for it while the running was good. The buyer's accented voice was unmistakable, as was her tone. "You're not going anywhere!"

"DEA!" Myka shouted, moving forward into the room with her gun drawn, since it was too late to do anything else. "Hands in the air!"

"I said hands in the air!" Myka repeated when all three people simply stood there staring at her. "Hands up! Now!"

There was a sudden strange pressure in Myka's head as she stared back at them all, and she reflexively blinked to clear it. When she opened her eyes, the two dealers were gone - replaced by two exact duplicates of the buyer, who somehow looked more annoyed than anything else as she muttered to herself. "Bloody hell…"

"What the hell is this?" Myka demanded, setting her stance and aim so that she had a clear shot at all three copies of the buyer.

The copy of the buyer at the far right end - most likely the original of the buyer, for all the good that bit of deduction did Myka - raised her hands to show that she wasn't armed. "My name is Helen Magnus. I'm with British Intelligence, working on a joint task force with your government. We're on the same side."

Myka didn't bother responding, though her face clearly reflected her skepticism. The Magnus standing in the middle noted her expression and started trying to play on it - her voice was uncannily like the original, right down to the accent. "I'm sure we can work something out here…"

"Shut up," Myka ordered the duplicate Magnus. If the other two also chose to obey, so much the better.

The original Helen Magnus apparently didn't feel like cooperating. "The man beside me is producing a hallucination. You cannot trust what you are seeing."

The other duplicate - the one on the far left end, who had remained silent thus far - finally spoke up, also sounding exactly like the original. "What makes you think you can trust her, either?"

The original Magnus cut him off, full attention still focused on Myka. "The man next to me has a genetic mutation that allows him to-"

Myka cut her off. "Yeah, well, we've all got our problems."

Ignoring the interruption, the original Magnus continued on. "He's doing this to confuse you, to gain time to make his escape."

The original Magnus' eyes shifted as she looked over to the person beside her, and a very real urgency filled her voice. "He has a weapon. He's going to kill you if he can't escape."

Both duplicates protested, but movement along the floor caught Myka's eye. The shadow of the middle duplicate was all wrong - it was moving when its owner clearly wasn't, and it was moving in a way that resembled nothing so much as someone pulling a gun from behind their back.

Myka didn't hesitate, firing several rounds into the duplicate's chest. Something shimmered as the body hit the floor, and the body's appearance faded back into the head dealer from earlier. She repeated the process when the second dealer shifted back into himself and raised his own weapon.

There was a long, tense moment while Myka made sure neither man was going to get back up, then Helen Magnus moved to pull something out of her coat. Not even about to take any chances, Myka leveled the gun at her. "Don't."

Magnus put both hands back in the air. "Easy, agent. I'm reaching for my credentials and my phone."

Pete and several other agents came barreling in, having finally caught up with Myka. They covered Magnus while Myka retrieved the offered credentials and phone from Magnus' coat - after a quick but thorough search to make sure any weapons were removed as well.

After Pete went to call everything in - at this point, there was nothing about the bust that didn't warrant an immediate phone call to their boss - Myka just stared at Magnus as if trying to solve an exceedingly difficult puzzle. "How did you know what that man was?"

Magnus simply smiled and countered with a question of her own. "How did you know I was telling the truth?"

Myka just shrugged. "His shadow was moving but he wasn't."

That earned another smile - this one strangely impressed and approving - from Magnus. "Clever girl…"

Myka ignored the comment. "Your turn. What the hell just happened here?"

It was apparently a question destined never to be answered. Within moments, the club had turned into an agency circus as the various teams necessary to deal with an agent-involved shooting descended on it and began their work.

It didn't take long at all for the preliminary declaration that Myka's shooting of the suspects was justified - no one had expected otherwise, and Myka wasn't especially worried about the rest of the investigation. She was, however, still very much wanting an explanation from Helen Magnus.

Multiple phone calls later, Myka had confirmed that Helen Magnus was in fact the head of a special joint task force - Agent Helena Wells, the woman Myka had tackled to the ground, was her second-in-command. She had also been advised point blank that she herself was not cleared to know anything else about that task force.

It galled her to hand Magnus back her badge with no real answers, but she didn't have much choice. "My superiors cleared you, but they won't tell me anything about this task force you say you're on."

"They probably don't know anything themselves," Magnus replied with a smirk. Tucking her badge back into her coat, she looked back up at Myka. "Why did you come after us, Agent Bering?"

"We were making a bust, and you were posing as buyers," Myka said with a shrug. "What else were we supposed to do?"

Agent Wells walked up just then, clearly wanting Magnus' attention. Magnus just smiled at Myka again, though this time there was something like regret behind it. "I know you have questions, Agent Bering, but I'm afraid you'll have to be content with a simple thank you."

Before Myka could respond, Magnus left to join Agent Wells. Neither of them knew about Myka's excellent hearing and didn't move far enough away to compensate for it. She heard Agent Wells loud and clear as the other women reported in. "The neuro has been chipped and contained."

Magnus just nodded, glancing over at Myka as if somehow finally realizing she could hear them. "Good work, Helena."

Pete, finally released from the latest round of questioning, came and stood by his partner. Myka didn't even look over at him, instead continuing to watch Magnus and Wells, who had since lowered their voices. "Pete, have you ever heard of something called a neuro?"

Pete blinked in complete and unfeigned incomprehension. "What's a neuro?"

Myka shook her head. "Never mind. Probably just something else we don't have clearance to know."

Despite her initial resolve to just let it go, all of the unanswered questions proved impossible to ignore - not even the predictable post-stress reactions to the shooting were enough to completely distract her. If anything, those reactions only sharpened her resolve to know exactly what she'd stumbled into.

She got to work early the next morning, having already worked out the best possible methods to dig for her answers. Four days later, she woke up in the morgue after being shoved out a 46th floor window.


	9. FBI's Most Unwanted (The X-Files)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...The reason you're here, Agent Bering, is we want you to assist Wells on these X-Files. You will write field reports on your activities, along with your observations on the validity of the work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Bering And Wells AU Week over on Tumblr. Scully!Myka gets assigned to new partner Mulder!Helena...

J EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING  
(FBI HEADQUARTERS)  
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Special Agent Myka Bering removed her sunglasses as she stepped into the building, blinking involuntary a time or two as her vision adjusted to the change in light quality and intensity.

The sky outside was clear, the sunlight almost blinding in its brightness, but the artificial light inside the building just seemed… off somehow as Myka looked around. Things like that didn't normally bother her, but she'd been uneasy before she'd even walked inside, and that was as good an explanation as any.

It wasn't every day that a relatively new agent - only a year and a half out of training - got called in from their teaching assignment at Quantico to report directly to their section chief in Washington D.C. The fact that Myka knew her record to be exemplary had allowed her curiosity to take precedence over her anxiety, but hadn't been able to eliminate it entirely.

Maneuvering through building security offered a welcome distraction from her nerves, but the respite was all too brief. If anything, her unease grew even stronger as she followed the security officer's directions to her destination. Fortunately, the older man in the elevator with her barely acknowledged her presence once it became apparent that they were headed to the same floor - less fortunately, he still reeked of the imported cigarettes he'd tucked into his jacket pocket, along with a very expensive lighter, and the smell did nothing to settle Myka's stomach or nerves.

Myka let the man - clearly someone with rank and status, whoever he might be - exit the elevator first, noting with some alarm that he seemed to share her destination. He spoke quietly and briefly to the Section Chief's personal assistant, then strode right into the office of Section Chief Scott Blevins - the same man who had summoned Myka earlier that day.

Shaking off her growing unease, Myka introduced herself to the assistant. "Agent Myka Bering. I'm here to see Section Chief Blevins."

The woman smiled - a surprisingly warm and genuine smile that Myka was rather grateful for amidst all the strangeness - then picked up the phone to announce Myka's arrival. "Agent Bering is here as requested, sir." 

She paused as Blevins responded, noting something down in her computer. "Of course, sir - I'll send her right in."

Even with an express invitation, Myka knocked politely at the office door once she reached it, and didn't open it until she heard Blevins' reply. "Come in, Agent Bering."

Blevins was sitting at his desk when she entered, and he nodded briefly in acknowledgement as their eyes met. "Agent Bering, thank you for coming on such short notice. Please…"

His sentence trailed off as he gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk, but the intent was quite clear, and Myka obediently took a seat. She had to fight not to jump in surprise as the smoking man from the elevator - whom she'd already forgotten about in her nervousness - moved from just beyond her peripheral vision to stand to Blevins' right. A third man, who must have already been in the office before either Myka or the smoking man, moved to stand on Blevins' left.

Blevins didn't bother to introduce either man to Myka, nor did he introduce Myka to them. If any of the three of them noticed Myka's sudden flare of anxiety, they didn't choose to comment on it. Blevins, instead, got right down to business - whatever that was. "We see you've been with us just over two years."

Myka nodded, using her pride in her work over those two years to project a confidence she didn't quite feel in that moment. "Yes, sir."

Blevins glanced down at a folder in front of him, which his next question revealed to be Myka's FBI file. "You went to medical school but you chose not to practice. How'd you come to work for the FBI?"

He had looked her directly in the eye as he asked that, and Myka met his gaze squarely. The question was hardly a new one, and she even allowed herself a slight smile. "I was recruited out of medical school. My parents still think it was an act of rebellion, but I saw the FBI as a place where I could distinguish myself."

The man on Blevins' left, apparently even more intent on business than Blevins himself, didn't even blink at Myka's subtle joke. "Are you familiar with an agent named Helena Wells?"

That wasn't a question, or a name, Myka had been expecting, and she blinked in surprise before answering. "Yes, I am."

All three men seemed surprised by that answer, looking at each other briefly before the man on Blevins' left continued with his questions. "How so?"

Myka couldn't decipher the undercurrents swirling around her - not with no real information to work from - but there didn't seem to be any reason not to answer honestly. "By reputation. She was born in London and has multiple degrees in science and engineering from Oxford. She's rumored to be a genius with machines, so much so that she had a nickname at the academy... Spooky Wells."

Myka, catching the smoking man's eye as she looked between her inquisitors, gave him a small smile to accompany her statement. He didn't so much as blink, evincing the same apparent stoicism as his companion on Blevins' left.

Blevins seemed to like her answer well enough, however, as he finally jumped back into the conversation. "Agent Wells has developed a consuming devotion to an unassigned project outside the Bureau mainstream. Are you familiar with the so-called 'X-Files'?"

Myka thought it over for a moment, but couldn't recall anything specific. "I believe they have to do with unexplained phenomena."

Blevins nodded. "More or less. The reason you're here, Agent Bering, is we want you to assist Wells on these X-Files. You will write field reports on your activities, along with your observations on the validity of the work."

Silence fell at Blevins' pronouncement, and Myka looked from man to man, turning back to Blevins when she found nothing helpful in any of their expressions. "Am I to understand that you want me to debunk the X-Files project, sir?"

Blevins' answer didn't really reassure Myka. "Agent Bering, we trust you'll make the proper scientific analysis. You'll want to contact Agent Wells shortly. We look forward to seeing your reports."

That statement was as much a dismissal as anything else, and Myka exited Blevins' office with as much haste as she could muster and still look composed and professional. She had no idea why she'd been chosen for this particular assignment, but the paperwork she'd been handed by Blevins made it quite clear that it wasn't voluntary.

There wasn't any choice but to make the best of the assignment - however much her stomach was currently churning - and she decided as she looked at the bank of elevator buttons that she might as well meet Agent Wells while she was here, and get at least some sort of feel for her new partner.  
The paperwork Myka had been handed indicated that Agent Wells' office was actually here at the Hoover Building, down on the basement level. That less-than-ideal placement - tucked away as if to keep Wells out of sight and out of mind - seemed more than a little at odds with the unusual interest in Wells that Blevins and his colleagues had displayed during Myka's interview.

Myka, wondering yet again just what she'd been dragged into, sighed in frustration and pressed the button to take her down to the basement. Her first thought after finally stepping off the elevator was that the basement level wasn't quite what she'd pictured - more cramped and maze-like than the upper floors, to be certain, and perhaps a touch dingier, but no different in the end than any other floor in any other federal building.

Agent Wells' office was tucked away in a back corner - exactly as Myka had expected, which revived a little of her faith in her own instincts - and only Myka's excellent sense of direction kept her from getting completely lost while trying to locate it.

A neatly-done, official-looking nameplate beside the door confirmed that Myka had located the correct office. That door was also closed, but Myka could hear music coming faintly from beyond it, and so she reached out to knock.

A feminine, mock-cheery voice - which Myka could only assume was Wells', given the English accent - called out through the closed door a moment later. "Sorry, darling - no one down here but the FBI's most unwanted!"

Myka allowed Wells a moment or two to open the door, then decided to risk being rude and open it herself. She had a further moment to idly consider that the office was going to be a pretty tight fit for two working agents, after which she got completely sidetracked by the state of the office itself - complete and utter chaos that Myka could only pray had some underlying organizational scheme she was simply missing at first glance.

And that some of the chaos was simply Wells attempting to clear some room for her new partner...

Thankfully, a second, more thorough, look around the office did in fact confirm both theories. The walls were covered in papers and pictures and other assorted printouts, some overlapping each other, but it was easy enough to see that it was all segmented and arranged like some massive whiteboard - Myka had to concede it was an excellent way to put blank, unattractive cinderblock walls to use. The only thing on those walls given a clear, distinct space of its own was a slightly battered poster of a UFO up above a forest treeline, with the text I Want To Believe in large block letters at the bottom of the poster.

Before Myka could further ponder the meaning of that poster, the music filling the room suddenly stopped. It hadn't been especially loud to begin with, but its absence immediately created a jarring silence that called Myka back to the present and reminded her that she was standing there gawking at a stranger's office without so much as an introduction, or even a 'hello'.

Agent Wells, fortunately, seemed more amused than offended as she stood there beside her desk watching Myka analyze her office - Myka somehow had the impression that this wasn't the first first time Wells had had someone react that way to her organized chaos.

Then Myka finally met Wells' eyes, and her brain just… stuttered. It wasn't even that Helena Wells was absolutely stunning - which she most definitely was - or that she had the darkest, most unusual eyes Myka had ever seen. It was the raw… something behind those eyes - intelligence, fire, spark, whatever - and the way that Wells somehow seemed to both see her and see *into* her, all at once.

Clearing her throat, Myka forced herself to remember at least some of her manners, and held a out a hand. "Agent Wells? I'm Myka Bering. I've been assigned to work with you."

Wells smiled at her - which almost made Myka's brain stutter yet again - then shook Myka's hand. Her grip was firm and direct, with just the right amount of strength behind it, and Myka decided that it perfectly matched everything else she'd been able to glean about the other agent so far.

Wells' first words were pointed and more than a little sarcastic, but her smile seemed genuine enough that Myka didn't think any of it was directed at her specifically. "Isn't it nice to suddenly be so highly regarded? So, Agent Bering, who did you tick off to get stuck with this little detail?"

"It's just Myka," Myka corrected with a smile. "And I'm actually looking forward to working with you. I've heard a lot about you."

Wells smiled back, but it didn't quite reach her eyes - they were too busy staring through Myka in a rather unnerving attempt to get some sort of read on her. "Oh, really? I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me."

That stung a little, but Myka also found it oddly comforting to know that her new partner shared her concerns about the assignment. Still, she intended to do her job here, the same as any other assignment, and wanted Wells to know that. "If you have any doubts about my qualifications or credentials-"

Wells just grinned and held up a finger to indicate that she needed a moment. Apparently thinking better of it, she started talking again even as she dug around her desk."You're a medical doctor, and you teach at the Academy. You did your undergraduate degree in physics."

Finally finding what she was looking for, she held up a thick, bound printout for Myka to see. "'Einstein's Twin Paradox: A New Interpretation.' Myka Bering's senior thesis. Now that's a credential - rewriting Einstein."

Myka couldn't help bristling a little - she knew that Wells also held a degree in physics, and it was hard to tell whether Wells' praise was serious or mocking. "Did you bother to read it?"

Wells nodded, and Myka was relieved to see no trace of mockery there. "I did. I liked it."

Before Myka could respond, Wells was back in motion, digging around on her desk yet again. "It's just that in most of my work, the laws of physics rarely seems to apply like you'd expect."

Wells unearthed a tablet from under a stack of folders and began tapping on the screen. "Perhaps I can get your medical opinion on this, though…"

She help out the tablet, and Myka took it, looking over the image of a female body laying face down in what looked a clearing in the woods. 

"Oregon female, age twenty-one," Wells explained as Myka looked back up at her. "No explainable cause of death. Her autopsy shows nothing unusual."

Reaching over, Wells swiped across the tablet screen to pull up another image, a close up of a pair of large red bumps on the woman's back. "There are, however, these two distinct marks on her lower back. Doctor Bering, can you identify these marks?"

The use of 'doctor' rather than 'agent' - or even Myka's given name - told Myka that Wells was intending to test Myka's ability as a scientist rather than her abilities as a field agent. With that in mind, Myka took a moment to ponder all the possible answers.

When those answers proved disappointingly prosaic, Myka nonetheless stood by them. "Needle punctures, maybe. An animal bite. Electrocution of some kind."

Wells seemed accepting enough of Myka's answers, but reached out again to bring up a third image on the tablet. "How's your chemistry? This is the substance found in the tissue surrounding those marks."

Myka studied the molecular diagram Wells had pulled up - she'd always done well enough at chemistry but this wasn't any formula she'd ever seen. "It's organic. Beyond that, I don't know. Is it some kind of synthetic protein?"

Wells just shrugged. "I've never seen it before either."

She reached over and swiped across the tablet screen again, pulling up an image of a boy face-down on railroad tracks, his shirt lifted in the back to reveal a set of red bumps. "But here it is again in Sturgis, South Dakota."

"And again in Shamrock, Texas," Wells continued, swiping across the screen again. The next image was eerily similar to the previous one - a man laying face down, his shirt also lifted to display a set of those same strange bumps. 

Myka's curiosity was definitely piqued. "Do you have a theory?"

"I have plenty of theories," Wells said with a wry smile. "What I can't explain is why it's Bureau policy to label these cases as 'unexplained phenomenon' and then ignore them. Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, Agent Bering?"

Myka blinked, momentarily thrown by the apparent non-sequitur, but managed to answer readily enough. "It seems arrogant to think we're the only evolved species out there, but the realities of space travel makes it unlikely that-"

Wells nodded as if expecting that exact answer, then cut her off. "Conventional wisdom, if most likely correct. This Oregon female is the fourth person in her graduating class to die under mysterious circumstances. When convention and science offer us no answers, might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?"

There was a certain sense to that idea, but Myka wasn't ready to give in just yet. "The girl obviously died of something. If it was natural causes, it's plausible that there was something missed in the post-mortem. If she was murdered, it's plausible there was a sloppy investigation. What I find *fantastic*, Agent Wells, is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there - you just have to know where to look!"

Myks flushed a little as she realized that her response had been much more heated than she'd intended it to be. Wells, though, seemed impressed that Myka had stood her ground - enough so to smile at Myka and even joke with her a bit. "That's why they put the 'I' in 'FBI,' darling. And it's Helena, or HG."

Helena suddenly retreated back into herself, though, every bit as abruptly as she'd thawed just a moment before. Seemingly intent on checking something in the file she'd shared with Myka, she took the tablet back and began tapping on the screen. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, Agent Wells."

When Myka didn't respond in any way, Helena looked back up at her and answered her unspoken question with a grin. "We leave for the very plausible state of Oregon at eight AM."

With that, she turned her attention back to the tablet as if Myka had already left.

Myka, for her part, couldn't help smiling a little as she walked back out into the hallway. She still had her doubts about the new assignment, but she had an even stronger feeling that working with Helena Wells was going to be an experience not to be missed...


End file.
